

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 


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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. ' 








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Miss Slimmens’ 


BOARDING HOUSE. 



By the Authog of 

“A Bad Boy’s Diary,” “Miss Slimmens’ Window,” 
Etc., Etc. 

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NEW YORK: 

J. S. OGILVIE & COMPANY, 

31 Rose Street. 


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Copyright 1882, by J. S. Ogilvie & Co. 




Miss Slimmens’ Boarding House. 


CHAPTER I. 

“ SINGLE GENTLEMEN PREFERRED.” 

[As Pennyville grew larger and more fash- 
ionable, the business of the new milliner from 
Boston rapidly increased, while very many of 
Miss Slimmens’ oldest and most reliable custo- 
mers deserted the little shop, climbing up a 
pair of stairs to give their patronage to the 
showy establishment, whose windows flaunted 
nearly the whole stock of the possessor, above 
the first-floor dry-goods store of brick, new, and 
three stories high, which had now become the 
centre of attraction to the feminine portion of 
the village — flaunting its stock right in the an- 
cient face of the weather-worn sign across the 
way. This was too much for human nature, 
and especially woman-nature, to endure. There 
is a time when “ patience ceases to be a virtue.” 
Miss Slimmens felt that that time had arrived ; 
and, two years after that tragic event which 
made such melancholy inroads upon her heart 
and fortune, the shop was closed, the sign was 


6 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


taken down, and the Boston milliner was left in 
possession of the field. 

Let not her sympathizers suppose from this 
that Miss Slimmens was vanquished. To that 
indomitable spirit there was no such word as 
fail. A card, which appeared in the Pennyville 
Eagle , will explain her purposes sufficiently to 
those able to appreciate the advantages which 
such a step must ensure to a lady of her busi- 
ness habits and matrimonial aspirations : 

W ANTED — A few genteel young men, as boarders, at 
No. 90 Washington street, by a lady without family, 
who has more room than she requires. All the comforts of 
a home secured. Single gentlemen preferred. 

Our fair friend had run some risk, as she had 
been obliged to invest quite a large part of the 
money which the sale of her stock in trade, etc., 
brought in fitting up the establishment indi- 
cated in the advertisement as No. 90. Dora, 
poor child, had lost her mother, and, being 
without other friend or protector in the world, 
had accepted the offer of her mistress to re- 
main with her, assisting in the superintendence 
of the household as a compensation for her 
keeping.] 

Yes, gentlemen, I really trust we shall; I 
trust we shall get along admirality together. 
I depend upon you both for guidance and sup- 
port. Hitherto my efforts to obtain a compen- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 7 


sation have been principally among my own 
sex ; and, although there are a few honorable 
exceptions, I must say, as a general thing, wo- 
men are dreadfully down upon one of their 
own sex who is struggling for a livelihood, es- 
pecially when, like the one who is now before' 
you, she is timid and unexperienced. I won- 
der if I shall ever, in my maturer years, arrive 
at an age when I shall be less sensitive and 
more capable of taking care of myself? Oh, 
gentlemen, I have suffered ; but it “ boots not 
to remember’' the past. With the sweetest of 
Boston’s many bards, let me exclaim : 

“ Oh, faint not, in a world like this, 

And thou shalt know ere long, 

Know how sublime a thing it is 
To suffer and be strong !” 

What’s that you remarked, Mr. Little? You 
think this butter must have suffered ? Oh, 
Mr. Little, how sharp you are, now — he, he ! 
I was not aware that it had the slightest un- 
pleasant flavor, and my digestive faculties have 
always been considered rather too critical. I 
paid the highest market price for it. But that’s 
only one of many instances of how an unpro- 
tected female is imposed upon. How did you 
say you took your tea, Mr. Grayson? With- 
out sugar or milk ? I declare, what a curious 
coincidence ! Why, that’s the way I take my 


8 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 

mine ! It’s the only way to take tea — don’t 
you think so ? All true lovers of 

“ The cup which cheers, but not depreciates,” 

— as “ Gray’s Elegy,” I think it is, has it — con- 
sider its delicate aurora injured by any addi- 



tion. What’s that, Mr. Little? Old people 
are apt to take it without, but, for your part, 
give you plenty of the fixings along with it ? 
Oh, certainly, as much as you choose. But 
I’m sure Mr. Grayson is not old, if he is a wid- 


Miss Slimmens' Boarding House . 9 

ower. How old are you, Mr. Grayson, if it isn’t 
a secret? Rising of forty, perhaps? Fifty- 
six ! J ust twice my age. I never should have 
guessed it in the world. But I’m glad there’s 
somebody who has arrived at maturity to give 
an air of dignity to our circle. We shall be a 
very pleasant fainily, I trust. I shall do my 
best to study the tastes and peculiarities of 
each in order to consult them. 

A daughter of mine ! Dora a daughter of 
mine ! Oh, Mr. Grayson, you know not what 
you ask! Nothing but your being a stranger 
in this vicinity excuses so strange a question. 
Surely you must have noticed that I am ac- 
costed by the prognostic of Miss Slimmens. I 
am unmarried, and have ever been, Mr. Gray- 
son ; my heart is still my own ; my affections 
are virgin as the unkissed bloom upon the grape. 

Vergin' upon fifty, did you say, Mr. Little ? 
I’m sure I don’t understand you, and it’s well 
for you that I don’t. Besides, Dora is too old 
to be a child of mine. We are generally taken 
to be sisters. She ha? a good deal of my ex- 
pression about the mouth and eyes — the same 
sort of smile. You speak true ; she has a sweet 
countenance. We are said to resemble each 
other considerably, although we are no relation. 
She’s a poor girl, without father or mother, 
that Vve taken and made what she is. She’s 
my adopted sister now ; and if I do well in the 


io Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


boarding-house, I intend to take her in as pard- 
ner before the end of the year, which will be 
doing a good deal, for she won’t have as much 
to put in the general stock as would buy a 
dozen of eggs, whilst I have already infested 
nigh on to a thousand dollars. 

Have some of the chipped beef, Mr. Turner 
* — do ! Won’t you have some more, Mr. Little ? 
You’re not fond of chips? — he! he! I’ve al- 
ways heard you were a witty person, but I 
hope you won’t be too severe at my expense. 

Yes, Dora’s a nice girl ; but she’s poor, aw- 
fully poor. If anybody thought of marrying 
her, I don’t know where the wedding-dress 
would come from. It’s a terrible pity she 
wasn’t born an heiress, like myself. What’s 
that, Mr. Little? I might lend her my bridal- 
robes, if she should chance to want ’em ? Re- 
ally, now, I wasn’t aware that I had any ; I cut 
’em up for bunnit silk months ago ; besides, 
what should you know about ’em, when they’ve 
never seen the light to this blessed day, and I 
keep the key of the chest myself? And as for 
that matter, he’s only jesting, Mr. Grayson, as 
I never had any bridal-robes, of course, seeing 
I never was married. Dear me, it’s uncom- 
fortably warm here — don’t you find it so? 
Bridget, open that door, and bring some more 
bread — one slice, and cut it in two — mind, 
girl ! — don’t you see the plates are empty ? 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 1 1 


Yes, gentlemen, I trust we shall prove to be 
kindred spirits. There is nothing more absorb- 
ing to the contemplation than a united family 
circle, where congenial aspirations bind them 
together. I am young to assume the responsi- 
bility of feeding and clothing — of course, I am 
speaking metaphistically of the clothing — so 
many of the opposite sex ; but I intend to en- 
deavor to fulfil the charge — to be a sister to 
you all. I hope my example will be such as to 
keep the younger members of this interesting 
group in the rectified path of probable and 
truth. If any of you stand in need of advice, 
come to me. If any of you wish shirt-buttons 
replaced, come to me. If any of you ever feel 
lonely, and in need of the tender constellations 
of home, come to me. If any of you wish your 
cravats and pocket-handkerchiefs hemmed, 
come to me. It shall be done freely, and with- 
out charge. My object in establishing this 
boarding-house has not been simply to make 
money — to feed, like a coroner, on the hearts 
of my victims, charging them a high price, and 
giving them cheap provisions in return, while I 
withhold that sympathy and intimacy which is 
more precious than bread and meat. My prin- 
cipal object has been to establish a home — a 
place where young men, away from their 
mothers, may find, for a moderate reimburse- 
ment, the comforts to which they were accus- 


1 2 Miss Slimmens 5 Boarding House . 


tomed before they left the shelter of their 
childhood’s roof. So plausible an object ought 
to succeed. I feel that it will. Already, at 
this, our first meal, I count before me six of 
the most respectable young gentlemen of 
Pennyville, and this interesting stranger, who 
intends to become a permeate residence, and 
who has brought along with him initials of the 
highest character. I have forebodings that I 
shall succeed beyond my fondest anticipations. 
In the mean time, my rent is high, and provis- 
ions — as you are aware, Mr. Turner, being in 
the grocery business — are very dear ; which ac- 
counts for the price I have fixed upon as the 
weekly remuneration for what you receive. I 
would fain allow filthy lucre to remain unmen- 
tioned in my plans, but, as long as this cannot 
be, I know that to your noble and generous 
minds it will be a pleasure to contribute to- 
wards the support of an unprotected female 
obliged to abandon the millinery business to 
which she had clung for the last — five years ; 
and that a dollar more or less will never be 
weighed in the balance by those of you who 
have sisters, or who expect to have wives. 

Yes, gentlemen, I throw myself — Really, 
Mr. Little, you drink considerable tea for a 
young man. This is your fourth cup, I be- 
lieve. If you don’t look out, you’ll be sal- 
low and withered up before you know it ; too 


Miss Shmmens' Boarding House. 1 3 


much tea is bad for young people. What’s 
that? Am I a very great tea-drinker? No, of 
course I’m not ; two cups is enough for me, at 
my age. When I get to be forty, maybe I’ll 
feel the need of more. They say tea makes 
people grow old dreadfully fast, and sugar in it 
spoils the teeth. ’Twould be a pity for your 
teeth to go, Mr. Little ; they’re beautiful now. 
He ! he ! thank you ! mine are pretty good. 
I’ve been told — Hey? — better than they 
used to be several years ago? Why, yes; I’ve 
no doubt they’re better than they were when I 
was sheddin’ my first set. Children’s teeth is 
apt to be irregular about that time. Won’t 
you have some more of the preserves, Mr. 
Grayson ? Don’t be backward about saying 
so, if you will, for Bridget can bring in some, 
if anybody wishes ’em. There’s plenty in the 
cellar. 

Well, gentlemen, our first meal together has 
taken place. This is an important error in my 
life. Please remember that the parlor is always 
at your service. I shall generally be there 
f myself, evenings, to give it a familiar aspect. 
There’s a guitar in there — I play on it myself 
some — have been learning lately on purpose to 
add another charm to home. I sing some. So 
does Dora. I should be happy to take a duet 
with any of you, at any time. I’ve also got a 
bodoor. It’s right back of the parlor. It was 


1 4 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


originally invented for a bedroom, but, as I 
told Dora, a bodoor would be more appropri- 
ate. They’re quite the style. And then they 
have such a reclusive air. They’re a sweet 
place to retire to when one has something to 
confide, or feel weary of the prometheas 
throng. It will be one of my favorite hounts. 
If any one who needs advice, or has got the 
headache, or anything to confide or mistrust, 
he is welcome to Alvira’s bodoor. 


CHAPTER II. 


SHE IS CONFIDENTIAL WITH DORA. 

We’re getting on swimmingly, Dora. It’s 
a money-making business, when it’s managed 
right — better, on the hull, than fixing over old 
bunnits. I’ve cleared nigh on to eighteen dol- 
lars this week, over and above all expenses. 
And then, you see, child, our chances for re- 
ceiving the attentions of the opposite sex are 
so much better. You’re too much in your in- 
fancy, as it were, to attach much importance to 
this advantage yet ; but the time’ll come when 
you’ll depreciate it as it deserves. Why, the 
gentlemen scarcely take their eyes off you when 
you’re at table! They don’t eat much more 
than half the usual amount. But I don’t mind 
that ; what I consider is your interests ; and 
that’s why I’ve decided that you’d better not 
eat at the general table. You’re too modest 
a girl — too much like me — to wish to be the 
sinecure of so many young men’s eyes. I hate 
it myself, like poison ; but of course somebody 
must reside at the head of the table, and so 
I’m actually impelled to. It goes against the 
grain, though I’m getting a little used to it. 
You shall have some of the best of vittles 


1 6 Miss Slimmens' Boarding House. 

saved, and be waited on like the rest of us, but 
I guess you'd better eat by yourself. 

That puts me in mind ! I’ve invited Mr. Barker 
to bring in his flute, and we’ll get up a concert 
this evening. I’m glad so many of the board- 



ers have musical abilities ; it’s such a nice way 
of getting ’em into the parlor of evenings. Mr. 
Little's promised to keep his violin over here 
after this, and not at the store. He makes it 
an excuse for staying out evenings that he’s 
practising ; but once get his violin here, and 


Miss Slimmens' Boarding House . 1 7 


we’ll know what’s really going on. He’s the 
handsomest young man in Pennyville — Mr. 
Little is. Don’t you think so ? But he says 
such impertinent things, and keeps the boarders 
laughing at things that he says, which I can’t 
overhear. I declare I’d give him his walking- 
ticket if he didn’t pay such a good price for that 
front room, and if I hadn’t hopes that he’d 
some time come round and yield to the fasci- 
nations which somebody flings around him. 
There, Dora, you needn’t turn so red ; of course 
I wasn’t thinking of a poor girl like yourself 
catching Hal Little yet awhile. Mr. Barker’s 
got a real talent for music. You can’t think 
how pleased he was to discover that I sung 
and played the guitar. He said he should fre- 
quently join me in a duet. He asked me what 
were my fa\4orite songs. I told him Moore’s 
Melodies ; he said they were also his’n. He 
said he should be delighted to hear me sing 
“ Love’s Young Dream” or the “ Last Rose of 
Summer,” dressed in character. Wasn’t that 
a charming idea ? I’m determined to carry it 
out ; though I think I should prefer “ Love’s 
Young Dream” to the other, as more approbri- 
ous. I’m going to surprise him some time 
soon, by making an appointment to meet me 
in my bodoor, and, when he enters, find me sit- 
ting upon a pile of cushions, with my guitar in 
my lap, dressed in Oriental custom, as Moore 


1 8 Miss Slimmens ' Boarding House . 


describes some of his heroines. Which would 
you choose, if you were me? I’ve always 
thought you’d good taste, Dora, and I shall be 
likely to abide by your decision. 

And, oh, Dora, I’ve got a secret to tell you — 
one of the greatest secrets of my life. You 
can’t think how queer it makes me feel to be 
having such a secret to confide. I don’t know 
as anything will come of it, but it looks very 
much like it. And what makes it so delightful 
is the mystery which encircles it. I don’t know 
when anything so mysterious has ever before 
happened to me. Look here ! I found this in 
the sugar-bowl this morning. I was rather late, 
and several of the boarders had taken their 
places before I arrived ; so I don’t know who 
to lay it to. Wasn’t that a sweet depository 
for a love-letter? — such an antique idea ! When 
I took it out, I glanced around, but nobody 
looked the least conscientious. Mr. Little was 
carving the beefsteak as if it never would come 
in two — and, in fact, it was rather tough : Mr. 
Barker was looking at me as innocent as if 
nothing but coffee was in his thoughts, and the 
rest were just as usual. Do you know the 
handwriting? Neither do I. It’s a nice plain 
hand, isn’t it? I didn’t venture to read it until 
breakfast was over and I had taken refuse in 
my bodoor. My heart palpitated uncommonly 
fast as I broke the seal. See here ! it’s poetry. 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 1 9 


It seems to be a parable of “ The Vale of Avoca,” 
a great favorite of mine, which I was singing to 
Mr. Barker night before last, which makes me 
guess he is the author, though two other gen- 
tlemen were present at the time, either of which 
may have been the one. How I wish I knew! 
But of course I shall find out. I intend to as- 
certain this evening, to a certainty, whether it 
was Mr. Barker. It was one of the objects I had 
in view when I invited him to a solitary duet in 
my bodoor to-night. It’s nearly time now, and 
he’s very punctual ; but I guess we’ll have time 
to peruse it. It is called 

THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 

There is not in this wide world a maiden so sweet 
As the one in whose bosom all gentle thoughts meet; 

Oh, the last rays of feeling and life must depart 

Ere the bloom of that maiden shall fade from my heart. 

Yet it was not that Nature had over her spread 
The purest of pearl-white and brightest of red; 

’Twas not her soft magic of beauty or youth — 

'Twas something quite different from such things, in truth! 

'Twas that she, the beloved of my bosom, was near — 

That she made even common provisions seem dear; 

And I felt how the best charms of life may increase 
When we have them served up by a Goddess of Grease. 

Sweet maiden, Alvira, how calm could I rest 
In thy bo— door of sweets, with the one I love best; 

Where the storms which we feel in this cold world should 
cease, 

And where love and economy mingle in peace. 


20 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


Now some people might object, Dora, to the 
practical tone of what I have read you, but for 
my part I have ever thought that a proper med- 
icum was the one to be preserved. It is a pre- 
cept upon which I have ever acted, with one 
exception, to which you are better knowing 
than anybody else, save the villain who caused 
me to make such a fool of myself. When I’ve 
decided to my own satisfaction who placed ’em 
in the sugar-bowl, I’m going to return an an- 
swer in the saucer of his teacup. I’ve got one 
nearly finished now. If Mr. Barker’s the one, 
I’ll find out before ten o’clock this night. I 
thought he looked a little sensitive at the table 
this noon. I saw Mr. Little winking at him — 
yes, actually winking — although he didn’t mean 
me to see it. If he wasn’t so provoking good- 
looking and liberal, I declare I believe I’d let 
that best room to the first application. I wish 
you’d see if my guitar is in tune ; you can get 
it in tune so much quicker than I can, and the 
clock’s striking seven now. 

There ! I hear his voice in the parlor now. 
I wonder why he don’t come immediately into 
the bodoor. He and them others are in a great 
glee about something ; I hope it isn’t about the 
corned beef we had for dinner. Mr. Little said 
he had become so permanently corned since 
he’d been put upon rations that reports to his 
disadvantage had already become freely circu- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding Hotise. 2 1 

lated in Pennyville ; and Mr. Turner said he 
was afraid we had all been guilty of cannibalism 
without knowing it ; he was confident we had 
been living off Lot’s wife for a week. I shall 
have to have fowls to-morrow, I perceive, though 
I didn’t appear to hear ’em. 

There, Dora, he’s pitching his flute now. I 
think he plays like a second Morpheus. Do 
hear how sweetly he runs up the gamut ! He’s 
an ostrich in himself ! Oh, if it should prove to 
be him who wrote Dora, dear, he’s com- 

ing this way! Hadn’t you better slip down in 
the kitchen and see how Bridget’s doing the 
knives? I’m dreadfully afraid she puts the 
handles in hot water; and after that you may 
count the towels she’s ironed, and then you 
may — well, no matter what — go to your room 
if you want to. I’ll tell you to-morrow the re- 
sult of our Hurry, child, and shut that 

door securely after you; I’m getting to be 
dreadfully sensitive to draughts. 


CHAPTER III. 


HER OPINION OF WOMEN BOARDERS IN GEN- 
ERAL. 

The autograph of the breakfast-table! I’m 
going to be the autograph of my own break- 
fast-table, gentlemen. If our sex don’t begin 
to assume responsibilities some time, I’m sure 
I don’t know when they’ll be recorded to them ; 
and, for my part, I feel fully equal to the task. 
I trust there will ever be a literary atmosphere 
hanging over this dining-room. Fried onions, 
Mr. Porter; those are fried onions; a very 
healthy breakfast dish, indeed. I shall do all 
that I can to promote the discursive tendencies 
of the young gentlemen about me. I’m inter- 
ested in all the leading topics of the day, and 
nothing would give me more glowing satisfac- 
tion than to see them successfully promoted. 
I have thought of instituting a debating society 
in the house, the questions to be argued while 
we’re at meals. It’s very promotive of diges- 
tion to talk a good deal while you’re eating. 
What’s that, Mr. Little ? And very saving of 
vittals? Well, now, you do put the queerest 
construction upon my conduct, which I shouldn’t 
put up with from some, only I know you’re so 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 23 


full of jokes that they just run over without 
your knowing it. What do you think of gas- 
tronomy, Mr. Grayson? It’s a science very 
much talked about since what-you-call-him w r ent 
up in his balloon. Gas is taking the place of 



kerosene and candles in most cities. Dear me ! 
I wish they'd introduce it into Pennyville ! It 
would have a very imposing effect to see the 
rows of lamps all lighted up along Main Street 
of a dark night. I should love to promenade be- 
neath their bewitching influence, hanging upon 


24 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


the protecting arm of one of the sterner sex. 
Methinks it would awaken all the poetry of my 
inner nature. I should admire to have a gas- 
burner in my bodoor. Do you recall last even- 
ing, Mr. Barker, just at that peculiar moment, 
how provoking it was to have to snuff the can- 
dle? If I’d have been you, I’d have let it gone 
without snuffing. I broke a guitar-string, I was 
so put out. You are sure there’s no need of 
any gas in this house ? Why so, Mr. Little ? 
Now, you must tell me or I’ll never forgive 
you. Oh, you saucy creature, you — he ! he ! 
he ! — you wish to flatter me ! I suppose my 
eyes are rather bright — I have been told so, so 
often — but they are not quite so luminous as 
all that comes to. 

I had application for two new boarders yes- 
terday, but I told them I was full, for I would 
not have taken them in for ten dollars a week 
apiece. Why ? Because they were women — 
young women and school-teachers, at that ! 
Didn’t I see through their wanting to board 
here as easy as through a pane of glass? 
Humph ! there never was a young lady school- 
teacher yet that wasn’t wanting to get married. 
They knew that this was a favorite boarding- 
house for gentlemen — that there were several 
marriageable young men here, and they thought, 
no doubt, there would be fine times. If they 
had had any modesty, they wouldn’t have 


Miss Shmmens Boarding House. 25 


wanted to board where there were so many men, 
as long as they had no protectors, no father or 
brother to see after them. One of them evi- 
dently thought herself very handsome. They 
ain’t the first I ve turned away. Women board- 
ers are a pest and a nuisance. You never found 
anybody that was willing to have ’em, though 
some is obliged to take them, that’s got fami- 
lies to support, which, I’m thankful to say, / 
haven’t. They are everlastingly in the way; 
their noses are in everything. If there’s ever 
a time or an hour when you wish they’d keep 
their rooms, that’s the very minute they choose 
to leave ’em. They spy out everything, and 
they’re everywhere. Supposing them two 
teachers had a’ come here and taken rooms — 
of what earthly use do you suppose my bodoor 
would a’ been to me? Would it have been 
mine or theirs most, do you think? Humph! 
their flounces and their curls would fill up every 
corner ; they’d have my guitar, and be breaking 
the strings, and screaming “Sleeping, I dreamed, 
love,” or “ I have not loved lightly,” until I 
was distracted. Or, supposing it was a married 
woman, of course she’d have a “ darling” — a 
squalling, angry, cross, impudent little thing, 
with molasses on its mouth and dirty fingers, 
breaking my dishes at table, down in the kitchen 
several times a day for “a piece,” and get- 
ting grease on my parlor carpet. His mother 


26 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


wouldn’t want to allow anything for his board, 
but he’d eat more than two common-sized men, 
and she’d want the privilege of doing his wash- 
ing in the laundry, and clear-starching her own 
musings once a fortnight. She’d be asking the 
cook all kinds of questions, and peeking into 
the cellar, and the sugar-barrel, and the pantry 
after musty pork, or cockroaches, or hashed 
meat ; and if she should discover a dead fly on 
the dining-room floor, she’d have cramps in her 
stomach and lose her appetite for a month. 
My girl would have to trot to the door to let 
in all her callers, and if I’d any company my- 
self, she’d be sure to drop in and make herself 
agreeable as long as they stayed ; and about 
once a week she’d have her three sisters, or her 
father and mother, or her dear Cousin John to 
tea, always, of course, when the table was 
crowded. I hate and I despise ’em. I’ll have 
to be worse off than I am now before I take 
women boarders for a living. I’d rather bleach 
bunnits and live in a brimstun-barrel, like old 
Diagonal in his tub. 

Speaking of bunnits puts you in mind to ask 
the meaning of that shadow of one you see on 
my sign-board ? Ahem ! you must know, Mr. 
Grayson, what, being a new-comer, you were 
not aware of, that a relative of mine was once 
in the millenary business, and, as I had the sign 
already constructed, I thought it an excellent 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 2 7 


piece of economy to have it repainted for my 
present occupation ; but the painter hasn’t put 
on enough coats, or else it’s struck through. 

Why do I say “ Single gentlemen preferred ” ? 
Oh, Mr. Little, you’re enough to puzzle an in- 
experienced person like myself. If it wasn’t 
for those black eyes of yours — but a woman 
can never be offended long, with them smiling 
her into good nature. Of course, if a man 
wasn’t a single gentleman, he’d be married ; and 
if he was married, he would have a wife, and 
would be wanting to get her boarded, too, and 
I just expressed my sentiments upon that sub- 
ject. That’s the reason, the only reason. My 
breast is innocent of any other. I could have 
no other motive. Single gentlemen are quiet 
and nice, and pay their board-bill without 
quarrelling. They are never in the way ; I’d 
ruther they’d be about than not. 

It’s a pleasure to me to do a favor to one of 
the opposite sex who has no mother or sister to 
go to when he wants advice or sympathy ! To 
bathe the aching brow ; to whisper consolation 
to the drooping spirits ; to pillow the weary 
head, so to speak, in a figurative sense ; to cling 
like the ivy to the oak. How beautiful is 
woman’s mission ! Gentlemen, if you suffer, 
let me know. 

More milk, did you say ? There isn’t another 
drop in the pitcher. I don’t know what be- 


28 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


comes of it, unless that girl throws it away. 
I take three pints a day, stiddy, and that, for a 
family of nine persons, ought to do. Will I ask 
Bridget to bring in some more fish? There’s 
no more broiled, Mr. Porter. I've known half 
a mackerel to furnish the table for eight per- 
sons; but we had a whole one this morning, 
and hash besides. I guess Bridget got it too 
fresh. 

What’s become of Miss Adams ? She prefers 
to take her meals by herself, I presume, since 
she insists upon doing it. But you’ll see her 
this evening; which reminds me, gentlemen — 
stop a moment, Mr. Grayson, if you’ll be so 
good — which reminds me to say that I shall ex- 
pect you all to consider yourselves engaged to 
me — for this evening, I mean. Oh, Mr. Little ! 
he ! he ! he ! of course, I didn’t mean that ! I 
am going to give a party — not a very large one, 
but most of the aristocracy of Pennyville will be 
invited — in honor of my birthday. This is my 
birthday, gentlemen ; but I’ll not expect your 
congratulations until this evening. How many 
strokes of the lash am I entitled to? Oh, Mr 
Little ! get out ! get o-u-t ! I never was saluted 
by one of the masculine sex, never ! You sha’n’t 
kiss me ! you sha’n’t ! I’ll die first. Mr. Por- 
ter, Mr. Grayson, rescue me, oh-h-h ! Now you 
needn’t say that, you naughty, naughty man ! 
You were a-trying to kiss me ; you know you 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 29 


were. And you’d have made out in a minute 
more, if you’d only kept trying. Faint heart 
never won fair lady. Seriously now, how old 
am I? Guess. “Fifty-four!” Do you mean 
to insult me, Mr. Smith, or are you but in jest? 
“ Seventeen.” That’s almost as far the other 
way, Mr. Little. “Twenty-five.” Yes, Mr. 
Porter, you’ve guessed it exactly. I’m twenty- 
five to-day. I intend now to lay aside all my 
youthful follies, and behave like one of our 
older young ladies. I suppose I may almost 
consider myself an old maid ! But I intend to 
yield gracefully. A person who has refused 
more offers than she is years of age can afford 
to allow herself to be called an old maid. I am 
willing the whole world should know my pre- 
cise age. But I’ll not retain you any longer 
this morning. There’ll be dinner as usual, to- 
day, but no tea, as I’ll have refreshments this 
evening, and will be arranging the tables at 
that time. 


(Night.) Well, Dora, the party went off 
splendidly, / think. Not an incident to mar 
the occasion. The chicken-sallid didn’t go 
round ; but I guess nobody noticed it, as there 
was plenty of cold ham, and enough left to last 
the boarders three days, which’ll save cooking. 

My dress was very becoming, I’m sure, from 
the way that everybody looked at it ; and Mr. 


30 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


Little whispered to me that he had never seen 
me looking so well. What a tormenting, saucy, 
fascinating young man he is! To confide to 
you the truth, I prefer him to all my other 
boarders, for all he says such wicked things. I 
like to see men a little wicked, don’t you ? It’s 
so delicious not to know just how naughty 
they’re going to dare to be. He come so near 
making out to kiss me this morning, right be- 
fore all the others. I don’t see what he give up 
for just as he’d conquered my last remaining 
particle of resistance. What are you smiling 
at, Dora? Take this pin out of my back braids* 
and help me get off these ringlets. Lay them 
in the box there, careful ; them cost me five 
dollars, besides the braids. It was very good of 
Mr. Barker to play on his flute so much ; it’s so 
convenient to have a musical deficient in the 
family. He’s rather stiff in his manners, and 
awful humbly ; but he’s remarkably obliging 
about his music. I got pitched rather high to 
sing “Twilight Dews,” but he carried me 
through with his flute. 

I’m of the opinion that the party will pay. 
The eatables didn’t cost very much, and none 
of the remnants will be wasted. I sha’n’t have 
much cooking to do for several days. I’ve got 
one new boarder by it — that clerk in the shoe 
store — he asked me, this evening, if I’d any 
more accommodations, and said he’d like to 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 3 1 


board with me. You see it gives an air of 
sociability, such as young gentlemen like; and 
the bodoor, and the guitar, and me being so 
gay and all. That’s just what I give the party 
for. I hope Mr. Grayson wasn’t put out. He 
went to bed before supper. These old widowers* 
are so particular and dyspeptical! But he’s 
rich, and he’s genteel, and I don’t mean to of- 
fend him. If things continue as they promise 
now, I sha’n’t keep boarders all my life. I shall 
make all the money I can while I do keep ’em, 
so as to be able to buy me a setting-out suitable 
to a merchant’s wife. Will you hand me my 
night-cap ? I must have some thicker ones 
made, for I’m getting the rheumatism in my 
head, taking off all my hair so of nights. Blow 
out the candle. Whew ! how cold it’s a-getting. 


CHAPTER IV. 


A TERRIBLE ACCIDENT. 

Dora ! Dora ! Dora ! wake up — wake up, I say! 
Don’t you smell something burning? Wake up, 
child ! Don’t you smell fire ? Good Lord ! so 
do I. I thought I wasn’t mistaken. The room’s 
full of smoke. Oh, dear ! what’ll we do ? Don’t 
stop to put on your petticoat. We’ll all be 
burned to death. Fire! fire! fire! fire! 

Yes, there is! I don’t know where ! It’s all 
over — our room’s all in a blaze, and Dora won’t 
come out till she gets her dress on. Mr. Little, 
you shan't go in — I’ll hold you — you’ll be 
killed, just to save that chit of a girl, when — I 

— I He’s gone — rushed right into the 

flames ! Oh, my house! my furniture ! all my 
earnings ! Can’t anything be done ? Fire ! fire ! 
fire ! Call the fire-engines ! ring the dinner-bell ! 
Be quiet! How can I be quiet? Yes, it is all 
in flames — I saw them myself ! Where’s my 
silver spoons ? Oh ! where’s my teeth, and my 
silver soup-ladle ? Let me be ! I’m going out 
in the street before it’s too late! Oh, Mr. 
Grayson ! have you got water? have you found 
the place ? are they bringing water ? 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 33 


Did you say the fire was out? Was that 
you that spoke, Mr. Little? I thought you 
were burned up, sure ; and there’s Dora, too. 
How did they get it out ? My clothes-closet 
was on fire, and the room, too ! We would 



have been smothered in five minutes more if we 
hadn’t waked up ! But it’s all out now, and no 
damage done, but my dresses destroyed and 
the carpets spoiled. Thank the Lord, if that’s 
the worst ! But it ain't the worst. 


34 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


Dora, come along this minute to my room. 
I don’t care if it is cold, and wet, and full of 
smoke. Don’t you see — don’t you see I’m in 
my night-clothes ? I never thought of it before. 
I’m ruined, ruined completely! Go to bed, 
gentlemen ; get out of the way as quick as you 
can. Dora, shut the door. Hand me that cam 
die ; I want to look at myself in the glass. To 
think that all those gentlemen should have 
seen me in this fix ! I’d rather have perished 
in the flames. It’s the very first night I’ve 
worn these flannel night-caps, and to be seen in 
’em ! Good gracious ! how old I do look ! Not 
a spear of hair on my head, scarcely, and this 
red night-gown and old petticoat on, and my 
teeth in the tumbler, and the paint all washed 
off my face, and scarred besides ! It’s no use ! 
I never — never can again make any of those 
men believe I’m only twenty-five, and I felt so 
sure of some of them. 

Oh, Dora Adams ! you needn’t look pale ; 
youve lost nothing. I’ll warrant Mr. Little 
thought you never looked so pretty as in that 
ruffled gown, and your hair all down over your 
shoulders. He says you were fainting from the 
smoke when he dragged you out. You must 
be a little fool to be afraid to come out looking 
that way. They say that new boarder is a 
drawing-master, and I seen some of his pictures 
yesterday ; he had some such ridiculous things. 


Miss Slimmens' Boarding House. 35 


He’ll caricature me for the amusement of the 
young men, I know. Only think how my por- 
trait would look taken to-night ! and he’ll have 
it, I’m sure, for I noticed him looking at me — 
the first that reminded me of my situation after 
the fire was put out. Well, there’s but one 
thing to be done, and that’s to put a bold face on 
it. I can’t sleep any more to-night ; besides, 
the bed’s wet, and it’s beginning to get day- 
light. I’ll go to work and get myself ready for 
breakfast, and I’ll pretend to something — I 
don’t know just what — to get myself out of this 
scrape, if I can. 

Good -morning, gentlemen, good - morning ! 
We had quite a fright, last night, didn’t we? 
Dora and I came pretty naar paying dear for a 
little frolic. You see we were dressing up in 
character, to amuse ourselves, and I was all 
fixed up for to represent an old woman, and 
had put on a grey wig and an old flannel gown 
that I found, and we’d set up pretty late, hav- 
ing some fun all to ourselves ; and I expect 
Dora must have been pretty sleepy when she 
was putting some of the things away, and set 
fire to a dress in the closet without noticing it. 
I’ve lost my whole wardrobe, nigh about, by 
her carelessness ; but it’s such a mercy we wasn’t 
burned in our bed that I don’t feel to complain 
so much on that account. Isn’t it curious how 
I got caught, dressed up like my grandmother? 


36 Miss Slimmens’ Boarding House. 


We didn’t suppose we were going to appear 
before so large an audience when we planned 
out our little frolic. What character did Dora 
assume? Really, Mr. Little, I was so scared 
last night that I disremember. She took off 
her rigging before she went to bed. Don’t you 
think I’d personify a pretty good old woman, 
gentlemen — ha ! ha ! — for a lady of my age ? 
What’s that, Mr. Little? You wish I’d make 
you a present of that night-cap, to remember 
me by? Of course, I’ve no further use for it? 
Of course I haven’t. It’s one of Bridget’s, that 
I borrowed for the occasion, and I’ve got to 
give it back to her. Have some coffee, Mr. 
Grayson — do ! I’ve got cream for it this morn- 
ing. Mr. Smith, help yourself to some of 
the beefsteak. It’s a very cold morning — fine 
weather out of doors. Eat all you can, all of 
you. Have you any profiles to take yet, Mr. 
Gamboge? I may make up my mind to set for 
mine before you leave us ; I’ve always thought 
I should have it taken some time. In charac- 
ter? He! he! Mr. Little, you’re so funny! 
But you’ll excuse me this morning, as I had 
such a fright last night. I must go and take 
up that wet carpet. 


CHAPTER V. 


CONFIDENTIAL, BETWEEN MISS SLIMMENS 
AND HERSELF. 

It seems to me as if everything had gone 
wrong since that night of the fire. There’s al- 
ways something sly going on between them 
provoking, sassy young fellows. I don’t believe 
I can ever pull the wool over their eyes again, 
after that flannel night-cap. It’s only last 
night at tea, Mr. Little asked to borrow it. He 
said he’d heard his friend, Mrs. Partington, had 
taken rheumatism in her head, and he wanted 
to send her the pattern. Even Bridget must 
cut up like the rest of ’em, and give warning 
that she’s going away, because I wouldn’t allow 
her to have “ a follower.” What does she want 
of a follower, I’d like to know. Here she’s got 
as many as three after her, and / — /, who ve 
been trying for twenty years, haven’t made out 
yet ! The ugly, homely, impertinent thing ! let 
her go, with her string of followers after her ! 
I won’t sit solitary in my bodoor of evenings, 
thinking of my lonesomeness, and hear her gig- 
gling and flirting with her beaux in the kitchen. 
It makes me desperate. Let her go, I say! 


38 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


I’ll hire 3. girl so old, and humbly, and cross 
that nobody'll think of speaking to her. Be- 
sides, how do I know what Bridget may be giv- 
ing to them creatures ? She treats ’em, of course. 
I missed a piece of mince pie last week, and 
I’ve no lock on the tea-caddy yet, though I’ve 
a pretty sharp eye to it. And there’s Dora 
been crying and pouting found so I’ve been 
obliged to ask her back to the first table, and 
keep her in the parlor more of evenings — not 
that I care for her doleful face, but she will be 
telling Mr. Little that I don’t treat her well, 
and then there’ll be trouble in the camp. I’m 
awful afraid she will catch him yet ! It looks 
like it. But she mustn’t, and she shan't, if I 
have to tell fibs to break it up. 

Oh, dear me ! I do look terrible old — there’s 
no use denying it. I can paint my cheeks, but 
I can’t fill up the hollows. I do wish them 
French folks that understand such things so 
well would invent something to fill up the 
wrinkles. I’d pay any price, for I feel it is 
“ now or never,” “ sink or swim,” “ live or die.” 
It went all over me last evening, when Mr. 
Barker was singing the Rover’s Song : 

“ This night, or never, my bride thou shalt be!” 

Why won’t somebody give me such a chance as 
that ? I’d go, if it rained pitchforks, and I had 
to climb out a six-story window and slide down 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 39 

a rope-ladder to reach his arms. I’d risk every- 
thing, even my refutation, I’m getting so re- 
sponding. 

Howsomever, if I can’t make love, I can make 



money, and I will. Maybe money will buy what 
female charms won’t. It’s a very good thing 
to depend on in case of an emergency. I’ve 
thirteen boarders now, and there’s that new 
one coming to-morrow. I’ve calculated pretty 
closely, and, if I find there’s nothing to be lost 


40 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


by it, I’ll calculate closer still. They’re mighty 
pert, now, some of ’em ; and I don’t know how 
much more scrinching they’ll bear without quit- 
ting the house ; but I’ll try the experiment as 
far as will do. When Mr. Little was in one of 
his funny tantrums yesterday, I told him I 
thought he found a great deal to amuse him. 
“ Yes,” he said, “ he laughed to grow fat! He’d 
as soon get fat by laughing as by eating; and if 
he couldn’t get what he paid for in the provi- 
sion line, he was going to take it out in the cash- 
inatory” — though what he meant by that, I 
don’t quite understand. “ Miss Slimmens,” 
said he, looking at me as solemn as the grave, 
“we pay six dollars a week apiece for the in- 
estimable privilege of being members of your 
family. What we eat is a secondary considera- 
tion. I would recommend your establishment 
to dyspeptics, for two reasons. Firstly, the 
richness and variety of the cullendary spread 
will not impair their digestive facilities, while 
the inducements to chacinatory exercise will 
very much invigorate them. Ahem ! Miss 
Slimmens, it is indeed a privilege to be one of 
your interesting family. I should love to be 
considered as a son — as one of your own chil- 
dren — that is, of course, if you were a married 
lady, as you should be.” And the impudent 
rogue looked so handsome and polite all the 
while, as if he thought I didn’t reprehend him. 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 41 


I saw him stealing glances at Dora. He didn’t 
get any sugar in his tea to pay for that speech, 
but he didn’t dare to ask for any. How he and 
the new border will get along together I can’t 
guess. He’s so full of his deviltry, and the new 
one told me he was studying for the ministry at 
the seminary. I knew he was the minit I sot 
eyes on him, with his gingham necktie, and his 
forlorn pantaloons, and his yellow hair sticking 
up so straight in front, and his meek voice. He 
thought I ought to take him for less than the 
regular price on account of his calling ; and I’ve 
consented to do it, for he’s young and green, 
not used to ladies’ society, and so innocent 
there’s no telling what influence might be 
gained over him by a woman who has had prac- 
tice. It’s much more probable I could bring 
him to propose than Mr. Little, and, if one pays 
a dollar a week less than the other, I’ve my own 
reasons for it. If the student should be shocked 
by the gay conversation of any of my other 
boarders, it’ll be time enough then to make up 
my mind as to chances. “ Never despair!” is 
my motto, and I’ll act up to it a while longer, 
though I’ve felt heartsick and discouraged lately, 
’specially since the fire. I’ve been dreadfully 
low-spirited, and that’s made the wrinkles show 
plainer than ever. I’ve felt awfully ugly, and 
I’m afraid I showed out my temper rather too 
plain once or twice. It’s hard to keep in for- 


42 Miss Slimmens ' Boarding House, 


ever, year after year, when one has as much to 
exasperate them as I’ve had. 

As I said before, I’ll make money, anyhow. 
I laid by twenty dollars last week, clear profits, 
which was partly owing to my getting that 
butter for twenty-seven cents a pound, and 
partly to Mr. Grayson being gone three days, 
for which no reduction was made, and partly 
to my giving up having biscuits or sass for tea. 
It’s two dollars more’n I made any previous 
week. And now let me see how matters stand 
for this week. Ten boarders at six dollars a 
week would be sixty dollars, and them three 
clerks in the back room at five dollars each 
would be fifteen, which would be seventy-five 
dollars income, and it’s all paid, every penny of 
it. Alvira Slimmens doesn’t go on the trust 
principle. “ Get as much as you can, and give 
as little in return,” is the only principle upon 
which to do business, if a person wishes to pros- 
per in this world. Then there was Barker had 
that young man here once to dinner and twice 
to tea, for which I added one dollar to the bill ; 
and as the young man was so bashful that he 
didn’t eat six mouthfuls, I consider it a clear 
profit of seventy-five cents. Then there was 
that dish Bridget broke ; I paid thirty-five cents 
for it when it was new ; it has been in use two 
years, and I deducted half a dollar out of her 
wages — profit, fifteen cents. Then there was 


Miss Slimmens * Boarding House. 43 


that turkey and that pair of geese which was so 
old that I made Farmer Goodman take off thir- 
ty-seven cents when we come to settle, though 
the age was certainly in my favor, as it took the 
boarders two meals to get through with ’em. 
Mr. Little wished I’d lend him my teeth, he said, 
cause if they got broke they could be replaced 
easier than his’n. Now let me look at my ex- 
pense book : 


Income, $76.15. Outgoes: 

Rent $8.00 

Fuel 5.50 

Bridget’s wages 2.00 

Washerwoman’s (paid in broken vittals) 0.00 

Butcher 7.75 

Salt fish 3-37 

Eggs and chickens 1 88 

Groceries and stores 20.30 

Wood sawyer 75 

Hole wore in dining-room carpet 50 

Apples passed around Sunday evening 21 

Pie-plate cracked 13 

Candies 75 

Pigeon sent to Mr. Grayson’s room the day he was sick 30 

Total $51.44 

Income 76.15 


Profit $24.71 


Well, I declare ! better and better ! I don’t 
want no better business than keeping boarders, 
so long as they all pay up and everything goes 
along as slick as it does now. Wouldn’t that 


44 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


“ minister in emory,” as they say, open his eyes 
if I should give him a glimpse at the state of 
affairs? A prospect of a pardnership in as 
money-making an establishment as this ought to 
be very engaging to a poor young man, with 
his way to make in the world. If he had money 
he could do a great deal of good — that is, if he 
got the handling of it, which is a matter to be 
settled afterwards. 

I s’pose I must make Dora a present of a 
new dress before Christmas. The child is rather 
shabby, that’s a fact ! and she perked up the 
other day and told me she’d rather go out as a 
hired girl, and know what she did earn, than 
never to have nothing she could consider her 
own ; if her services were of any value, she 
wished I’d settle how much, if it wasn’t more 
than fifty cents a week, and let her have it to 
spend as she liked. I’d have to hire another girl 
if I let her go, and I don’t think she costs me a 
dollar a week for clothes; besides, she keeps 
some of them young men here, I know. She’s 
a pretty girl, there’s no denying — modest, too. 
I’d give my whole possessions to be half as 
young and good-looking. Sometimes I think 
I’d stand a better chance if she wasn’t around, 
and then again I’m afraid my boarders would 
go off, and I should not stand any chance at 
all. 

I’ve half a mind to get her a blue merino. I 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 45 


could well afford it ; but then a Thibet will 
look just as well, at less cost. I’ll get her a blue 
Thibet, and give her that black velvet cape of 
mine to cut up to trim it with. 0 dear ! I wish 
I stood in her shoes, shabby as they are ! 


CHAPTER VI. 


SHE GETS AN INVITATION TO THE CONCERT. 

There’s to be a concert in town, this evening, 
gentlemen. The bill was throwed in the yard 
yesterday, and it’s in the Eagle this morning. 
I suppose you’ve all noticed it. “ The admired 
and celebrated Mme. Frizzolinda, assisted at 
the piano by Herr Blitzengruntz.” Foreigners, 
you see, which will be so delightful, as Penny- 
ville is but seldom honored by a visit from 
genuine stars which have ariz and shone in a 
foreign firmament. I wonder what she calls him 
Her Blitzengruntz for? Perhaps she owns him, 
or has some special claim upon him. ’Tanyrate 
it sounds pleasant ; it must be charming for a 
woman to possess some one that she can call 
all her own. O dear ! I’m so rejoiced that 
there’s going to be such a splendid affair once 
more in our quiet little village ! We’ve a great 
deal of musical taste here, don’t you think so, 
Mr. Barker? Yes, I’m rejoiced — though noton 
my own account. It’s nothing to me, personally; 
but I sympathize with those who will be permit- 
ted to be present. A lady situated as I am can 
hardly dare to attend such a place without an es- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 47 


cort, and of course I do not expect an invitation. 
The thralls which are wove about the feminine 
sex are very impeding. Here’s myself and my 
pardner Dora will have to forego the pleasure 
of an innocent and soul-exalting entertainment 
because we belong to that feebler sex which 



costume has impelled to lean upon the arm of 
men for guidance and support. I suppose, if I 
were a little older and had a more matronly 
appearance, I might venture to take Dora and 
go together ; but as it is, nobody’d know which 
was sisserone and which wasn’t. It would only 


48 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


be a dollar for the two, if we didn’t take reserved 
seats, which I’m sure I shouldn’t care for. I’d 
rather “ face the music,” as Mr. Little observes 
so felishesly. I don’t care so much for myself, 
neither, though I'm very fond of music, as you 
all know ; but Dora, poor thing, has really set 
her heart upon going, though she hasn’t been 
asked, and if she had, she says she wouldn’t go 
and leave me in solitary refinement at home. 

Did you inquire, Mr. Bethuen, if it was a 
sacred concert ? No, not exactly. It couldn’t be 
called a sacred concert, though I see in the dia- 
gram there’s an extract from Hannibal’s “ Mes- 
siah but I presume it’s all of a character op- 
probrious enough for a ministerial student to 
listen to. Good music has an elevating tenden- 
cy, whether it’s of a sectarian character or not. 
But I must not allow myself to dwell upon 
this theme any longer. Wont you have some 
more coffee, Mr. Grayson? I really wish you 
would! and a little more of the beefsteak; it’s 
tender-line. I bespoke tender-line this morning, 
as I know beefsteak and coffee are strengthen- 
ing and sustaining, and their uniting influence 
may enable an invalid like yourself to brave 
the evening air, provided you should happen to 
wish to go out this evening. Oh, yes, Mr. Little, 
certainly ! help yourself freely. It ought to be 
good, for I paid a cent on a pound more than 
common for it. 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 49 


Of course you 11 attend the concert, Mr. Bar- 
ker? and you, Mr. White? You’ve both such 
musical overtures, yourselves, that you’ll be 
able to depreciate all the excellencies of the 
occasion. But, as I said before, I must not 
allow myself to dwell on this theme any longer. 
Since I can't attend, the best way is to banish 
all thoughts of it from my mind. There, Dora, 
you needn’t cry, if you are disappointed. You 
ain’t a-crying ! Well, you look as if you wanted 
to, and I’m sure I don’t blame you. If you 
should cry, it wouldn’t be on account of the 
concert as much as on account of some people’s 
want of delicacy? Poor child ! I don’t wonder 
you feel some of the slights to which the orphan 
and the brotherless are exposed. If you had a 
brother now, he’d take some other girl, of 
course, if he was a sensible man, and allow you 
the privilege of escorting Miss Adams — what a 
witty person you ever are, Mr. Little. I’m 
glad Dora’s invited ; anyhow, that’s one thing 
off my mind. My own disappointment I don’t 
care about ; though I doubt if Dora’ll feel at 
liberty to accept under the circumstances. He ! 
he ! Mr. Little, I’m much obledged to you, I’m 
sure. I didn’t expect an invitation. Nothing 
was further from my thoughts. In fact, I hadn’t 
allowed myself to think much about it, as I 
had no idea of going. But since you’re so 
polite, though I’m extremely reluctant to put 


50 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


you to so much trouble and expense, of course 
we’ll be very happy, Dora and myself — Dora in 
particular. 

******* 

Oh, thank you, we had a delightful time — 
delightful. I’m very sorry you wasn’t there, 
Mr. Grayson. All the aristocracy of Pennyville 
was present. You’d have had a fine chance to 
get a glimpse of our best society under the 
most favorable allspices. The ladies were 
mostly without their bonnets, and had their 
hair dressed as if they was at a party. It had 
quite a city air, I assure you. I could almost 
transport myself, in theory, to Boston, or some 
other great metropolan. Mr. Little obtained 
us splendid seats, where we could hear and be 
heard to the best advantage. I was in my ele- 
ments ; I don’t know when I have had such 
a real good time. Madame Frizzolinda was 
dressed beauXxldXiy, just as I’ve read of their 
being dressed at their oporating performances 
— white satin, with a train, and a crown on her 
head, and a great big bouquet on her bosom. 
She looked like an empress. And then her 
singing was such a treat ! I enjoyed it so much 
I hadn’t the heart to be as critical as I usually 
am. Her localization was superb ; her denun- 
ciation was equally rapid and brilliant. She 
ran up and down the scale with the utmost 
agility. I’ve always thought I was pretty good 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 5 1 


on the high notes, but she went up beyond me. 
Them Italian pieces she sung was so affecting; 
I could see it by the way she rolled up her 
eyes and gasped for breath, though, of course, 
as I don’t understand Italian, I couldn’t 
tell just what it was about. I wish you’d 
have heard her sing “ The Messiah,” Mr. 
Bethuen, though I am afraid you would have 
disapproved of the style of her dress. They 
say she’s as much as forty years old, but she 
didn’t look more than twenty last evening. I 
trust she does not paint, or powder, or try to 
make herself look more youthful than she is. 
Such things are very silly, to say nothing of 
their being sinful ; don’t you think so, Mr. 
Bethuen? If / was forty years old, I’d ac- 
knowledge it, and let it go at that. But, oh, 
Herr Blitzengruntz was perfect. He came on 
the platform with such an air, and his moustache 
was so foreign, and he looked about with such 
self-possession. When he began to play I 
trembled for our music-teacher’s piano, though 
I suppose, if it- had come to pieces, they would 
have paid the damages. You know I carried 
that sweet bouquet Mr. Barker gave me last 
week, and I was so glad I did ! My feelings 
overcome me so by the time he’d played his first 
piece through that I was just able to toss it at 
his feet. We sat very near the platform, in a 
conspicuous position, and I feel quite certain 


5 2 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


that he saw just who it proceeded from. I was 
so glad I wore my pink silk dress and my hair 
in natural curls, without any bonnet — not that 
I care for the vanities of dress, Mr. Bethuen, 
but, having long been a resident of Pennyville, 
I feel a natural pride in having it make a good 
impression on strangers. When he picked up 
the bouquet and looked over the audience I nod- 
ded slightly and smiled, and I think he observed 
it, for he held the flowers to his bosom with a 
very impressive manner. I’m sure he will not 
soon forget Pennyville, nor his reception by 
the fairer portion of its inhabitants. These 
Germans are so fascinating! To be sure, he 
was rather fat, if I may be allowed the term, 
and his face — what we could see of it — was 
rather red ; but what he lacked in elegance he 
made up in dignity. He evidently felt his su- 
periority, and he doubtless had good reasons. 
I, for one, felt ready to yield to all he should 
require. They’re so used to being petted, it 
spoils them. It must be delightful to be 
spoiled. Ah, well, they left town this morning 
by the ten o’clock stage, and I suppose we shall 
hear them no more. Pleasure is so effervescent ! 
Don’t you find it so, Mr. Bethuen? You, 
whose mind is fixed on serial matters, must re- 
gard many of these things as vanities. What’s 
that, Mr. Little? No wonder the pleasure Herr 
Blitzengruntz conferred was effervescent, con- 


Miss Slimmens' Boarding House. 5 3 

sidering what a barrel of beer he was? He! 
he ! I suppose I must allow you to say all the 
funny things you want to, since you were so 
considerate as to take us to the concert, with- 
out the least intimacy upon our part, either, 
that we would like to go. It's very fortunate 
for Dora that she’s with me. It enables her to 
receive attention she wouldn’t get otherwise, 
and I’m glad of it, for her sake. 

Step into my bodoor, Mr. Bethuen ; you’ve 
not honored it yet by your presence. This is a 
little retreat, where I go to forget the cares and 
vexations of life, to fix my mind upon spiritual 
things, to banish the temperate affairs that 
must necessarily divert me through much of 
the day. It is a spot desecrated to devotion. 
Whenever you are weary of the strife of living, 
or pained by the noise and jokes of my other 
boarders, seek refuse in here ; you w r ill be ever 
welcome. Upon this little table reposes a 
Bible and hymn-book ; here rests my guitar. 
It is not exactly a sacred instrument, but its 
strings shall never be profaned by any music 
which shall jar upon the sensitive chords of 
your nature. If Mr. Barker and Mr. White 
persist in singing “ Old Uncle Ned,” and other 
specimens of negro minstrelsy, they shall do it 
in the general parlor. Though I have not yet 
united with the church, Mr. Bethuen, you must 
not suppose that I am indifferent to religious 


54 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


subjects. That I have taken you to board at 
a dollar a week less than my other boarders 
proves the deep interest I take, and the sacri- 
fices I am ready to make, in the good cause. I 
think that if some friend — or some one even 
nearer and dearer than a friend — should make 
a personal effort in my behalf, I could be 
brought to take a more saving interest in re- 
ligion than I have ever yet done. If I were 
united to some member of the church — united 
in good works, I mean, of course — doubtless I 
should come into the fold. It’s probably been 
more from youthful thoughtlessness than any- 
thing else that I have not hitherto been more 
decidedly drawn toward the means of conver- 
sion. I’ve no doubt you’ll exert a beneficial 
influence upon the young gentlemen of my 
family. I feel it a comfort and a privilege to 
have your countenance even at the low sum of 
three dollars a week. You must not mind the 
air of levity which at times prevails at my 
table and in my parlor ; high spirits is natural 
to youth — I indulge in them myself sometimes 
— unless one feels early that they have a spec- 
ial call, as I suppose you do. Do you sing? 
We might have some sacred music occasionally. 
I lead in the choir, you know ; I’ve always 
sang in the choir since I was a mere child. I 
haven’t belonged to the sewing society lately, 
owing to some personal misunderstandings be- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 5 5 


tween myself and some of the ladies of Penny- 
ville ; but I don’t feel so hard towards them as 
I did, I feel more of the forgiving spirit to 
“ love my enemies,” and I presume I shall join 
the circle again, perhaps at their next meeting. 
Do you attend? Then I shall certainly be 
there. Excuse me, Mr. Bethuen, but I noticed 
your collars was getting a little ragged around 
the edges. Anything I can do for you, you 
know, I shall consider the same as if I was serv- 
ing the Lord in any other way. I feel anxious 
to be doing a little more good in the world. 
Some persons think they will put off seeking 
grace until their youth is past, and they are 
tired of the gayeties of the world ; but I do 
not think I shall be one of those ; I shall be 
thankful to have the way pointed out to me ; I 
shall consider your advice and counsel valueless, 
and in return, any little sewing, you know, or 
service of that kind. Here’s a couple of pocket- 
handkerchiefs I’ve hemmed for you. Oh, no ! 
no! don’t thank me ; they were only three-and- 
sixpence a-piece, and I shall feel honored by 
having them dedicated to the use of oilyfac- 
tories of a future minister. Make yourself to 
home in my bodoor, Mr. Bethuen ; I feel anx- 
ious to see a good deal of you. Must you go? 
To prayer-meeting, I suppose? If I had time 
I should accompany you ; but there’s a great 
many calls upon my attention. I occupy a 


56 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


difficult position for a person of my years ; but 
I may tell you, as a great secret, mind, Mr. 
Bethuen, that I am making money , and with 
money one can do a great deal of good ; don t 
you think so? 


CHAPTER VII. 


SHE TAKES A LITTLE BOUND-GIRL TO LOVE 
AND CHERISH. 

Mercy ! what a crash ! something’s gone to 
smash in that kitchen now. Oh, dear, I’ve no 
peace of my life ! I’ve had that bound-girl in 
the house a week, and it ’pears to me a cen- 
turion. Tired as I am, I must trod down and 
see what’s gone, before she has a chance to 
hide the pieces. 

What have you broke now, Caturah ? Don’t 
tell me you hain’t broke nothing ; I heard it as 
plain as day. Lord-a-mercy ! If it isn’t that 
soup-tureen that I paid eighteen shillings for 
only the other day. The boarders will go 
without soup now for one while, if it is cheap 
feeding. And how am I going to get the 
worth of it out of you, my little baggage? 
you’ve no wages to keep back, and you’ve noth- 
ing to detach. Pretty economy it was taking 
you in place of a good, stout, hired girl, and 
doing the heft of the work myself for the 
sake of having some good out of you some time, 
and you’ve destroyed more’n yourhead’s worth 
the first week of your coming. How am I 


58 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


going to get back my eighteen shillings, I say ? 
I’ll get it out of your back; yes, miss, I’ll see 
what virtue there is in whips; and I’ll half 
starve you to make it up. Oh ! you needn’t 
begin to whimper. You’ll have something to 



cry for before night, something that will make 
you wish you was back in the poor-house where 
you belong. 

Go out in the garden and get me a couple of 
them peach sprouts, and come in and take off 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 59 


your vandyke. Stop, I won’t hear a word ! 
don’t try to interrupt me, you ill-mannered 
child. March, and be sure you get good, stout 
ones, or I’ll go myself ; go along, this instance ! 

Humph! rather slimsy sprouts; but they’ll 
do, I guess. Now, miss, off with that vandyke. 

What? Where? Oh, Mr. Grayson’s dog 
did it, did he? A likely story! Humph! a 
dog breaking a soup-tureen. What’s that ? 
sneaked in before you knew it, and got his 
nose in it, and knocked it off the table? Hum ! 
a likely story. But it pays , at all events — bet- 
ter’n whipping you , much as I ache to do it. 
If Mr. Grayson’s dog broke the tureen, Mr. 
Grayson’ll pay for it, of course. He’s a gentle- 
man, and always does what’s right about money 
matters. I shall tell him just how it occurred, 
and charge it in his week’s account. But mind, 
I don’t believe you, not a word you speak, 
you naughty, deceitful child ! Do you know 
what an awful thing it is to tell a lie ? Did no- 
body ever read to you the story out of the Bi- 
ble about Annannias and Sophia? how they 
were struck dead upon the spot for telling a 
lie — a terrible, wicked lie ? Ain’t you afraid 
the same thing will happen to you for your 

Good gracious ! Mr. Little, how you do sur- 
prise a person! What’s brought you down 
here into the mediterranean portion of my 
abode? Oh, no, not in the least! you haven’t 


6o Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


decomposed me at all, and you needn’t feel 
under the necessity of apologizing. Some board- 
ing-houses might not want their boarders to 
appear unsuspectedly in their kitchens, but I’m 
not one of that sort. If I have a fault, which 
the most of us have, more or less, it’s in being 
too superciliously neat. Caturah, look if there’s 
any hot water to spare in the boiler. Yes, Mr. 
Little, you can have all you like. What was 
I doing with them peach-sprouts ? Oh, you fun- 
ny man ! what do you suppose I was doing with 
them? nothing, as yet. But the cats is awful 
troublesome about here ; they’ll filbert the very 
chickens off the gridiron if they aren’t watched ; 
and I’ve just been telling Caturah to keep these 
sprouts handy, and the next time she catches 
’em at any of their snooping, jest to adminis- 
ter a good, smart categation to them. You 
didn’t know but, perhaps, as I’d never had any 
babies of my own to spank, I was going to try 
my hand on little Caturah here! He! he! 
you’ll be the death of me yet, with all your 
jokes, Mr. Little. I trust you don’t mean that 
for a double intender. I’m very particular; I 
don’t make it a practice to joke with my gen- 
tlemen boarders ; for a young lady in my situa- 
tion, you know, has to exercise a great deal of 
circumspection. But you’re so overpowering, 
Mr. Little, I always have to smile at you. 

You’re glad to hear it’s only the cats. Of 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 6 1 


course it’s the cats, and that dog of Mr. Gray- 
son’s that’s just broken my soup-tureen. Ca- 
turah will get along well enough if she only 
does as well as she knows how. She’s a poor, 
deserted orphan, without father or mother, that 
I’ve took from the poor-house from motives of 
charity alone. I’ve always been renounced for 
my charitable disposition ; and I know of no 
way I could do a better deed than to take this 
poor thing to bring up, and rear as if she was 
my own. I’m young for such a responsibility, 
but I shall discharge it to the best of my abil- 
ity. I can’t discharge this one as easy as I did 
Bridget, seeing she’s bound to me by ties 
stronger than those of blood. He ! he ! what 
an inveterate punster you are ! Go right 
straight along out of this kitchen, or I shan’t 
get my work done this afternoon. You needn’t 
think of getting up a frolic with us girls. Dora’s 
gone out ; and I’m not to be pampered with. 
If you should try to put your arm around my 
waist, I should powder that curly head of 
yours with the flour-dredger. Caturah, run out 
and empty these scraps into the pig-pen, and 
pick up some chips as you come along back. 
No, indeed, sir; none of your frolicking down 
here. What ! going ? The water’s getting cold ? 
It can be resuscitated with a little more if it’s 
too cool. Don’t be in a hurry. Oh, well, go, 
if you must. But I guess if Dora was present 


62 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


you wouldn’t be so pressed for time. How- 
somever, I guess Mr. Bethuen don’t feel bad to 
see which way the wind blows. He’s a very 
agreeable young man, in my opinion ; so intel- 
lectual and so moral in all his faculties. A lit- 
tle silent and retiring, but most great men are 
said to be. He's pious, if ever a young man 
was. Hey? — especially when it’s pumpkin-pie? 
Oh, Mr. Little ! you’re too bad ; he’s considera- 
ble of an eater I am aware ; and he don’t pay 
much for his board — but he needs physical food 
to sustain his great spirituous efforts. If he 
wasn’t quite so humble, I believe I’d encourage 
his atten 

Dear me! He’s gone, hot water and all. 
Well, I hope I made him a little jealous, any- 
how. Caturah ! Caturah ! what are you so long 
about those chips for, you idle little good-for- 
nothing? 

Don’t you presume to interfere, Dora Adams ! 
She hasn’t been whipped half enough yet, and 
I’m bound to have satisfaction out of her. 
There isn’t any of the boarders around now, 
and I’m going to give her enough to last her. 
Yell away as loud as you please, you little cata- 
mount you ! there’s nobody to hear you, and 
go about telling of it to the neighbors. I’ve 
held in just as long as I can, and I’m not going 
to stop now. What has she done ? She’s done 
everything! Hasn’t Mr. Grayson gone and 


Miss Slimmens ’ Boarding House . 63 


taken board at the hotel ? and isn’t that corned 
beef that I bought a-spoiling in the barrel ? and 
didn’t I forget myself, and come to dinner to- 
day with only one of my pads in my dress, and 
the boarders a-tittering, and the potatoes boiled 
to pieces because I was so put out and frustrated 
with only this plaguey little thing to help me, 
doing everything wrong, and hurrying me so 
that I had no time to tend to the most con- 
spicuous portion of my toilet? What has she 
done, indeed ? If you was in the kitchen a 
little more you wouldn’t have to ask. A-curl- 
ing your hair on your neck, and sweeping and 
dusting with gloves on for fear of spoiling your 
pretty hands, and I a-slaving in the kitchen to 
support you. Do you dare — do you dare to 
walk up dilapidately and take my whip out of 
my hands and break it up before my face and 
eyes? You think she’s been punished enough, 
do you ? You don’t want people thinking and 
saying that I’m cruel and unjust to the orphan, 
for my sake ? Oh, you’re extremely consider- 
ate ; but who’s going to know it, if you don’t 
tell of it yourself, and we the only souls about 
the house? Mr. Bethuen is reading in his room 
right overhead ? Why didn’t you tell me that 
in the first place ? She’s deserved all she’s got, 
and more too ; but, of course, I should have 
taken a more suitable time to administer cor- 


64 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


rection, if I’d have dreamed I was interrupting 
the studies of one of my boarders. 

Quit that snivelling, Caturah, this instance ; 
don’t you know you’re interrupting a minister 
of the gospel that’s going to be ? and put your 
cape on your shoulders, and take this three- 
cent piece and go to the grocery and buy your- 
self some gingerbread, since you haven’t had 
any dinner. If anybody asks you what you’ve 
been crying about, you can let on as if you fell 
down and hurt you. Don’t you dare to tell 
’em any other story, if you know what’s best 
for yourself. Ain’t hungry, hey? Well, I guess 
you’ll come to your appetite soon enough. You 
needn’t think because I’ve allowed Miss Adams 
to have her way this time that it’s going to do 
you any good to be sulky. Dora, do you go 
up and ask Mr. Bethuen if he knows what’s 
good for a burn. I don’t expect you to say that 
Caturah has scalded herself, but it won’t harm 
your conscience to intimidate as much, if it 
comes handy. 

If the dishes are washed, and the floor swept, 
you can take your spelling-book and sit down 
till it’s time to put on the tea-kettle, Caturah. 
You shan’t have it to say that you’re over- 
worked. And be sure and call me down at five 
o’clock. 

Dear! dear! I hope I shan’t feel quite so 
irritable after I’ve laid down awhile and got 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 65 


rested. I did whip her rather hard, I must 
confess ; but I was awfully out of temper about 
that padding, and Mr. Grayson’s leaving. He 
was one of my best boarders, and I did have 
faint hopes of— hi! ho! chances are getting 
fewer and fewer all the time ; and to think of 
that impudent fellow asking me at the table if 
I wasn’t getting to be a little one-sided in my 
views of matters and things, and I never knew 
what he meant till I looked in the glass after- 
ward. It was enough to vex a saint. I didn’t 
think Dora had spunk enough to walk up, as 
she did this afternoon, and take that stick out 
of my hands and snap it in two. Such a timid 
thing, afraid to say her soul’s her own, and put 
upon by me as much as she is, I didn’t suppose 
would have the courage to interfere. My ! her 
eyes blazed like stars, and all for that little 
beggar. I see I must use more circumspection. 
I hope Mr. Bethuen was so emerged in study 
that he didn’t hear what was going on. I 
guess I’ll call Dora and tell her she may go to 
Mr. Little’s store and select that blue Thibet 
this afternoon. It won’t do to go too far. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

SHE CASTS HER BREAD UPON THE WATERS. 

Things are in excellent trim, and I trust 
that, for once, the fates will smile upon my 
prospects. I’ve had so much vanity and vexa- 
tion of spirit lately, that I don’t feel as if I 
could put up with much more without giving 
up, once for all. I’m getting as yellow as an 
old Leghorn, and I’ll have to hang myself in a 
bleach barrel, and press myself out, if I keep 
on wrinkling up the way I have lately. But it 
won’t do to talk about brimstun when there’s 
ministers expected. It’s time he was here now, 
and there is nobody in hearing to prevent my 
singing it as soon as I hear him come into the 
parlor. I’m going to strike up, as if entirely 
unaware of his proximity, the instance I detect 
his footsteps in the parlor ; he’ll pause to listen ; 
of course he’ll not interrupt me till I’m through, 
and being supposed to never dream of his pres- 
ence, will render the effect much more power- 
ful. If he’s as green as I think he is, it will 
be just the thing. I’ve set it to the tune of 
“Greenland’s Icy Mountains,” which is his pe- 
culiar favorite, and my guitar accompanies it 
beautifully. 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 67 


Hark ! that’s the hall-door ; he’s coming in, 
and now’s the moment. “ Strike while the iron 
is hot.” Hum! 

(Sings.) 

“ From Penny ville to Boston, 

Which ocean breezes fan, 

You will not come acrost one 
That equals this young man. 

He points the road to ruin, 

A burning, shining light — 

His name is T. Bethuen, 

Or Timothy, by right. 

44 The world’s deceitful pleasures, 

They have no charms for him. 

He’s laying up his treasures 
Where moths cannot get in. 

His grace it is amazing 
In one so very young; 

The Lord he’s ever praising 
With sweetness on his tongue. 

44 That heathen in the Ganges 
Their little children throw, 

His mind it near deranges 
To think it must be so; 

He shows so much devotion 
It would not me surprise 
If o’er the raging ocean 
To rescue therp he flies. 

44 Oh, how can helpless wimmin 
Support this noble youth? 

There’s one whose name is Slimmens 
Would fly with him in truth. 


68 Miss Slimmens' Boarding House. 


She’d give a million dollars 
For his aspiring wings — 

She stitches all his collars 
And shirts and other things. 

“ She’s proud to be permitted 
To do her mite in this; 

Perhaps the socks she’s knitted 
May lead the path to bliss! 

‘ Her bread upon the waters’ 

She casts from ‘ pole to pole’ — 

Oh, that earth’s sinful daughters 
Would think about their soul ! 

“ Instead of paints and ringlets 
And fleeting female charms, 

Would sigh for angels’ winglets 
And saints’ protecting arms! 

Oh, had I T. Bethuen 
To ever point the way, 

I’d shun the road to ruin, 

And join the church to-day — y — y!” 

For the land sake! Mr. Little! where did 
you come from? I thought as much as could 
be that it was Mr. — in fact, I hadn’t the least 
idea there was a living creetur nigh. I’ve just 
been singing “ Greenland’s Icy Mountains” to 
keep up my choir-practice a little. Did you 
hear me? Well, the words were a little differ- 
ent in some parts. I found ’em here on the 
table in pencil-mark. I guess Dora must have 
composed ’em ; she seems to be dreadful fond 
of that stiff-looking, mumble-mouthed young- 
ster. I shouldn’t be surprised if it made a 


M iss Slimmens Boarding House . 69 


match. A pretty couple they’ll be to begin 
the world — neither of them a penny. I sup- 
pose he’ll preach, and she’ll bleach, and the 
Lord will take care of them. And, really, I 
don’t suppose Dora’ll ever do any better. A 
destitute orphan like her don’t commonly have 
too many chances to throw away. I shall give 
her a bed, and a set of dishes, and some pretty 
good clothes for her wedding-outfit if I find out 
she’s really engaged. 

La, Mr. Little ! how close you do set ! Sup- 
pose some prying eyes should see into this bo- 
door, with you a-setting so close to my side and 
trying to take my hand ! The tonsorial world 
would immejetly say that if we wasn’t engaged, 
we ought to be. But you needn’t stir upon 
that account. Don’t move — don’t ! Alvira 
Slimmens has a soul that scorns the voice of 
scandal ; besides, there isn’t a living creature 
about to see or hear or tell tales. You might 
get your arm about my waist in spite of all I 
could do, and there’d be nobody to fly to my 
rescue. You’re glad of it, for you’ve got some- 
thing very particular to tell me? Oh, Mr. 
Little, don’t say it too unexpectedly, or you’ll 
flustrate me so that I shan’t know what answer 
to make you. Of course I shall give my con- 
sent ; but I don’t want to do it without a little 
reflection. Though I’ve long anticipated this 
moment, yet now it is here, I’m so — so happy 


70 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


— so delirium with emotion — dearest,' may my 
head repose a moment upon your shoulder 
while I try to recover my perceptive facilities? 

You are pleased to inform me that Mr. 
Bethuen is not the only chance for dear little 
Dora to be settled in life? She’s confessed to 
you that she returned you»r love — she ! I didn’t 
think she’d have the immodesty — and you’ve 
thought it proper to announce the engagement 
to me, as her friend and guardian, and to say 
that you’d like the wedding to come off New 
Year’s day if / think proper ! Well, I must say, 
that’s rather hurrying up matters, for two chil- 
dren like you. Three weeks’ engagement ! If 
/ promised to marry one of the masculine sex, 
I’d impel him to wait three years instead of 
three weeks. Dora did object ; but you was 
afraid she was overworking herself, and thought 
she might as well take you first as last, as you 
never expected to be worthy of her anyhow. 
You are a dreadful modest young man, Mr. 
Little, for a dry-goods merchant, and the best 
looking person in Pennyville. You knew Dora 
would jump at the chance ; anybody would. 
But I don’t like your hinting about her being 
overworked. I’ve done a good part by that 
girl, and I don’t bear her no ill-will now. If 
you and she are a mind to get married, and 
will promise to board with me the first year, 
and take that front room and bedroom at 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 7 1 


twelve dollars a week, why, as I can’t help it, I 
shall give my consent, and do all I can to help 
Dora about her sewing, and countenance the 
match by giving her a good wedding — and that’s 
the end of it. Of course you’ll pay all the ex- 
penses, and see that she is provided with all she 
wants? Well, just as you please about that. 
I’ve no doubt you’re better able than a poor 
boarding-house female to do what’s handsome, 
and if you want to give a party, or anything, 
I’m willing to take the trouble of the arrange- 
ments. I’ve ever regarded you as an elder sis- 
ter might a brother, and I trust you’ll feel free 
to do as you please. Dora bade you say how 
grateful she felt for all my kindness, and that 
she hoped still to remain with me, if it was as 
a boarder instead of a pardner ! She’s a good 
little thing as ever lived — Dora is — and I don t 
find fault with her, if she has deserted me rather 
unexpectedly. I wish you both well. Going 
to tell her the result of our interview? Go 
along, then, and don’t be silly! 

There, snap went that string to my bowl 
There’s only one left now, which is the crook- 
edest stick of all. I might as well abandon 
everything else, and do what I can to enamel 
Mr. Bethuen. Mr. Grayson’s gone, and Mr. 
Barker I’ve recently heard was engaged to 
Philista Podd, where he spends so much of his 
evenings ; and now Mr. Little has the audacity 


72 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


to come and tell me that he is going to marry 
Dora. I’ve seen it — I’ve seen it, these weeks 
and weeks, that they were in love with each 
other, but I trusted some chance would break 
it up. Poor Dora! I suppose I ought to be 
glad, on her account, but I cant ! — it’s more 
than human nature is culpable of, to rejoice in 
her good luck. I never thought she'd make 
the best match in Pennyville ! it all comes of 
her curls, and pink cheeks, and innocent baby 
looks. Heigh-ho ! There’s one consolation : 
they’ll pay a good price for their board, and 
will be good company. I’d better put on a 
smiling face and make the best of it, in a pecu- 
niary point of view, that’s all. 

I wonder what kept Timothy Sethuen from 
coming in this evening, as he promised. If 
anything’s wrong there, I’ll give up and done 
with it. I’m glad that nobody but Mr. Little 
heard me singing them verses. He won’t dare 
to make fun of me now, since he’s an object 
for keeping me in good humor. Besides, he’ll 
likely forget all about it, his mind was so full 
of another matter. I was completely taken 
aback, when I saw it was him. The first of 
January! heigh-ho! Didn’t I say I’d give all 
I was worth to stand in Dora Adams’s old 
shoes? 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE PROFESSOR AT THE TEA-TABLE. 

Do you know what I’ve made up my mind 
to do, Dora? It’s to give you my wedding- 
dress. It’s just as nice as the minute it went 
into that trunk. Nobody’s ever seen it but 
you and me, and it can be fitted over for you 
beautifully. You remember I paid three dol- 
lars and a half a yard for that dress ; it’s real 
brocade, and shines like silver. Oh, you 
needn’t object to accepting it ! I can’t bear 
the sight of it ; and it’s just yellowing and 
creasing up, lying away as it does. I never 
expect to need it now. If I marry, as I likely 
shall some time , it will not be to one who will 
wish to see me covered with the fineries and 
artificials of this world. A plain drab, or, at 
most, an ashes of roses, will be more suitable 
to my new spear. The wife of a minister must 
not be a stumbling-block in the way of her hus- 
band, exposing herself to the remarks and dis- 
tractions of the congregation. I shall dress 
very plain after I’m married ; I’ve been think- 
ing I should give up curls ; but I’m not quite 
settled as to whether I shall or not. Oh, no ! it 


74 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


ain’t a bit too good for a person in your cir- 
cumstances ; you’re to be the bride of a dry- 
goods merchant, and must confirm to his posi- 
tion. That, and the silk he gave you, and your 
new Thibet for common occasions, will make a 
very pretty tournure. 

Go up to that closet and unlock the trunk — 
here’s the key — and take the dress out and 
bring it in here. Let’s try it on and baste it 
over at once. You’ve no time to spare be- 
tween this and New Year’s; and bring along 
the camfire bottle off my bureau ; I may have 
to have resource to it when I gaze once more 
upon my bridal robe. That man was an awful 
villain, a scoundrel of the deepest dye. I hope 
to hear before I quit this lunatory spear that 
he’s met his death by hanging. He gave 
Mehitable Green the greatest triumph of her 
existence. She can’t pass me to this day but 
she looks as if she wanted to put her thumb to 
her nose and wiggle her fingers. If she didn’t 
deem it vulgar I haven’t the least doubt she’d 
do it. 

It’s a little broad across the shoulders, and 
long in the skirt, but that’s better than being 
too small. My fingers tremble so I can hardly 
baste it up ; I don’t know what’s the matter ; 
but I expect that bound-girl’s wearing on my 
nerves. Of course it’s not fond memories of 
the past. I’m not so sentimental as I was be- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 75 


fore I came into this boarding-house. I think 
there’s something about cooking vittals less 
congealing with sentiment than trimming bun- 
nits. Besides, recently, I’ve had my attention 
called to topics of more serious consideration 
than the romantic dreams of thoughtless girl- 
hood. After you’re married, Dora, and the 
fuss is over, and I’ve time to reflect upon it, I 
do not know but I shall join the church. 

There’s a ring loud enough to start up that 
stupid Caturah, I hope. Eh? gentleman in 
the parlor wants to see the mistress of the 
house. A stranger? Another boarder, may 
be. Is my hair all right, Dora? I like to for- 
got that I washed my face since I came up. 
Hand me that pink saucer a minute. You go 
on with your basting while I go down and see 
what he wants. 

Good-afternoon, sir. A remarkably fine day 
for this season of the year, sir. Yes, sir; I am 
the proprietor of this establishment, or the 
proprietoress I suppose I ought to say — he ! 
he ! — sir. The feminine portion of the com- 
munity so seldom appear in a business capacity 
that I sometimes shrink from the responsibility 
of appearing as the head of so extensive and 
flourishing an establishment, especially as I am 
placed in an unprotected situation, without 
father or brother, and feel myself young to 
assume so much, but must say, if I do say it 


76 Slimmens Boarding House . 


myself, that I have generally given as much 
satisfaction as 

“ Those that are older than me — 

Of many far wiser than me — ” 

as dear dead Poe has it in his touching and 



graphical poem. But perhaps you are not fond 
of the Muses, and I will not seek to infuse my 
taste for them into the bosom of another. 

Well, really, sir, I do not know, until I allow 
my memory to summon up and ascertain. A 


Miss Slimmens' Boarding House. 77 


good, sizable room, with a fire ? I’m very 
much crowded at present, I may say; am re- 
luctantly impelled to refuse applications every 
day, so general a favorite has my house become. 
However, I will see. Did I understand you that 
you were a single gentleman ? The reason of 
my making what may seem a peculiar inquiry, 
is that I do not accommodate families. If you 
wished a room for yourself, I might try, even if 
prompted to resign my own apartment for a 
season, until a vacation occurs. Ah ! indeed, 
a widower, without children ? May I ask how 
long you have been afflicted? Only three 
years. I thought I perceived the traces of 
some settled melancholy still upon your fea- 
tures. I have been — I know not whether for- 
tunately for myself or otherwise — gifted with 
sympathetic facilities which ever enable me to 
detect and console another’s sorrows. So that, 
really, I can hardly be said, in the common ac- 
ceptation of the term, to take boarders. It is 
more as if I were surrounded by a family of 
brothers. Of course, worldly prudence dictates 
to me to accept a merely nominal sum in return 
for the food and drink which I bestow ; but 
food and drink for the body is not all , sir; and 
I make no charge for that sisterly counsel and 
nursing care which is invaluable. There is 
something in your countenance which interests 
me. I shall endeavor to furnish you such a 


78 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


room as you desire. If you have a chamber 
entirely to yourself, with a stiddy fire, and 
lights, my terms will be six dollars and a half a 
week, payable weekly. Doubtless you can 
obtain a room at the hotel for six dollars ; but 
not a home. The paltry consideration of fifty 
cents a week is but small return for a home to 
him who stands in need of such. Doubtless 
you yourself feel this. Did you say what your 
business was ? — excuse me, but I have forgot- 
ten — and how long your stay in Pennyville will 
probably be ? 

A professor of spiritus-phycology ? Dear 
me ! you don’t say so ! I’ve ever had a taste 
of phrenology, fizzleology, and all the kindred 
sciences. Your stay will depend upon your 
success as a lecturer, and the number of pupils 
you obtain ? Then, no doubt, you will remain 
the winter with us. The people of Pennyville 
are noted for their patternage of lecturers and 
men of intellectibility. I myself am but e pluri - 
bus unum , as our national emblem has it ; I am 
one of many who represent the brain of this 
community. Allow me, in their name, to wel- 
come you to our vicinity. You will not regret 
it, nor the price you will pay for board in my 
household. I have a number of young gentle- 
men in my family, and I shall endeavor to in- 
duce them all to attend your course of lectures, 
and become your pupils. When did you say I 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 79 


might expect you ? You would like your room 
to be in readiness by tea-time, if possible ? I 
will make the effort, sir. I feel in serving you 
that I am serving the cause of spiritus-phy- 
cology. GW</-afternoon, until we meet again, 
“ around the festal board,” as Byron has it. 

A new boarder, Dora! I’ve ordered a fire 
and clean sheets in Mr. Grayson’s room ; which 
I’m glad now, all things considered, he give up 
just as he did. He was such a cold, observing 
person, I was always afraid of him ; and the 
new boarder pays fifty cents a week more, and 
is so interesting. He wears specs, and a white 
cravat, and has a high forrid, and a low voice, 
and is a widower, not over thirty years of age, 
and a professor. Professor of what ? Why, of 
spiritus-physiology, or some such beautiful 
thing, I don’t precisely remember what. But 
his hair is as black as jet, and he has such a 
sweet, solemn kind of a smile, he interested my 
feelings at once. I hope he’ll get a good class, 
so as to remain here as long as possible. I sup- 
pose he’ll be only a transitory boarder, but 
“ great oaks from little acorns grow,” and who 
can tell what may arise from his pausing in 
Pennyville, and selecting this as his stopping- 
place? 

Come to think, I believe I’d rather buy you 
a new dress out and out, and let this be just as 
it is for the present. There’s a very nice piece 


80 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 

of white satin at Parker’s, which would be just 
the thing, and this brocade is rather heavy for 
you. Oh, you’ve cut into it, have you? Well, 
never mind ; only I thought that what might 
be opprobious to a minister’s wife might not be 
to a professor’s. It was merely a fancy that 
occurred to — Go ahead, now you’ve began, 
and make it as pretty as you can. 

Gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you 
Professor Lankton, who has come among us 
for the interesting purpose of making our citi- 
zens familiar with the elevating and instructive 
science of spirituo-phycology. Professor Lank- 
ton, allow me to introduce to you my family , 
as I take pleasure in terming it. 

“We’re a band of brothers,” 

that is, all but myself and Dora, who are the 
sister spirits who minister to the wants of this 
interesting group. I feel that there will be a 
congeniality of sentiments between you. The 
advent of a person into our midst of the charac- 
ter of this stranger cannot but have an elevating 
influence upon our citizens. I have promised 
him that Pennyville shall give him a glowing 
welcome, and I believe that my own family will 
not be behindhand in extending its patronage 
to profound learning mingled with the modest 
timidity of real genius. I speak a word for this 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 8 1 


gentleman, who is now for the first time seated 
at this board. He “ was a stranger, and I took 
him in.” Let him not discover to his sor- 
row that I have given too arduous encourage- 
ment. Mr. Smith, I believe you have the rent- 
ing of our Town Hall — give it to him for as 
moderate a compensation as you can in justice 
to yourself. I, myself, have taken a season 
ticket for the first course of his lectures, and 
hope all those I see gathered around me will 
follow my example. If an unprotected female 
can afford to encourage the arts and finances, I 
am sure her brothers will not hesitate to follow 
in her footsteps. But, really, in my ardor, I 
had forgotten your tea, gentlemen. I will pour 
it now. 

Better late than never, if it is a little cold. 
Tea? Of course it's tea — the best of young 
hyson. Oh, you couldn’t decide what parties 
lar style of beverage it was expected to be re- 
garded? Perhaps, if you smoked a few less 
cigars, Mr. Porter, your taste would be more 
detective. What’s that? Tarts? No, I 
haven’t any tarts for tea, as I know of. I sup 
pose you are trying to be funny at my expense. 
And I am trying to be saving at yours? He's 
only in jest, professor. My family are ever in 
such good spirits — all life and emenation. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE DOUBLE WEDDING — MARRIED AT LAST.* 

Who’d have thought it ! Who would have 
thought it, Dora, that you and I should both 
be married upon the same day? Four weeks 
ago you were not even engaged — four days ago 
I wasn’t : and here we are actually dressing for 
the wedding! No mistake this time. The 
bridegrooms are in the house — in their own 
rooms, getting ready. If it wasn’t that they 
were so near, and we had such circumstantial 
evidence of the truth of what’s going to happen, 
I should hardly durst to credit my own sensa- 
tions. The fact is, I never have quite recov- 
ered from that shock — you know to what I 
allude — and I sometimes feel as if I was in a 
dream, especially as the time draws nigh, and 
the same sensations begin to agitate me as on 
that fatal night. 

You look heavenly, Dora, with your bridal- 
veil, and curls, and that white silk. I wish I 
was half as handsome ! I can afford to own it, 
now that we’re both sure of a husband, though 
I never did consider myself as fair complected 
as you. How tasty it was of Mr. Little to send 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 83 

to Lowell for them exquisite bouquets, one for 
each of us. He’s a fine man, and I wish you 
good luck of him. Just pin my veil here, with 
this pearl pin, won’t you ? Why, child, how 
cold your hands are, and you’re actually tremb- 
ling ! Well, I’ll confess, I’m a good deal flus- 
trated, but I don’t feel so agitated as all that. 
You’re as pale as a ghost. Was that Mr. Lit- 
tle speaking in the hall ? Bless me, if you ain’t 
as red as a piny the minute you hear his voice ! 
Set down and compose yourself. I’m afraid 
we shall make some blunder, if you don’t get 
a little composed, and I want things to go off 
in style this time. I want my revenge, this 
night, upon that old Mehitable Green, that’s 
made me a laughing-stock for the last two 
years. I’ve included her in the invitations 
a-purpose to enjoy her rage ; she’ll be so mad 
she’ll be fairly green, and yet she’ll have to 
smile as sweet as a pitcher of molasses when 
she wishes me joy. There’s the men talking in 
the hall. No mistake this time, Dora. 

You see, there’s something in presentiments ; 
never tell me again you don’t believe in ’em. 
Why, that Professor hadn’t been in the house 
more’n twenty minutes — I had just had a little 
business conversation with him — and he’d gone 
back to the tavern to order his baggage over ; 
and didn’t I walk right up to this very room^ 
and tell you you needn’t cut into that bridal- 


84 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


robe, the very one you’re wearing this instance, 
for, like as not, I should want it myself ? Lucky 
for you I was too late, and I can’t say I’m 
sorry, for maybe it would have been an ill omen 
for me to have put that on again. I only hope 
it will bring you better fortune than it did 
me. 

I’ve learnt wisdom from experience. The Pro- 
fessor endeavored to persuade me to lend him 
a couple of hundred beforehand, but I wasn’t 
to be fooled twice. “ Never,” said I, “until I 
am thine, and thine alone, shall I resign a penny 
of my money — not that I doubt thee, dearest, 
but I’ve reasons which I care not to explain.” 
And though his brow was clouded for a mo- 
ment, it cleared away, and he assured me that 
it was no longer of any consequence, only — and 
he looked so reproachfully that I almost blamed 
my own severity — only he thought I should 
have sufficient confidence in my future husband 
to make him a trifling loan for a few days. I 
came very near doing it, but I didn’t. I de- 
termined to have him first, and have him I shall 
in less than two hours. 

Only to think of my being the bride of a real 
professor ! I never expected to aspire to such 
an imminence. Mrs. Professor Lankton ! me, 
Alvira Slimmens ! Well, let them laugh that 
win ; I’ve been a good while about it, but I 
haven’t taken up with a crooked stick, for all 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 85 


that. Poor Timothy Bethuen ! I trust he isn’t 
deeply disappointed ; he’s been wonderfully 
down in the mouth recently. What are you 
smiling at, Dora ? He wasn’t in love with you, 
was he? You needn’t be afraid to confess, for 
nothing can now affect me unpleasantly. 

There ! the company has begun to arrive ; I 
hear them crowding into the hall. And that’s 
the minister. Bless us, child, don’t tremble so ; 
you’ll disarrange your tournure. It’s quite eco- 
nomical, making the same minister, and the 
same wedding-cake, and the same fuss and 
trouble answer for both. That’s my only rea- 
son for having my own marriage take place so 
soon ; otherwise I should have postponed it 
until I had time to becpme more intimately 
acquainted with my future husband — not that 
I consider it a necessary caution, for a meeker 
or more saintly-looking man I never saw than 
the professor ; his face is the convex of his 
character. 

Hark ! hear that Mehitable laughing and 
talking; it’s all put on, every bit of it, to hide 
her jealousy. You might know that she’d be 
among the first to get here ; I expect the day 
has seemed awful long to her. I’ve taken par- 
ticular pains to ask everybody that has been 
spiteful in their remarks ; the parlor, and 
bodoor, and dining-room will be crammed and 
jammed with people. I’m glad Mr. Little’s 


86 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


sisters offered to receive the company: we’ll 
have a chance to make so much better an im- 
pression, going down at the last, and sweeping 
in, and the minister proceeding with the cere- 
mony immejitly. They’re sweet girls, them 
new sisters of yours ; they looked nice in them 
flounced tarlatans to-night. Only think ! do 
you remember, Dora, when we were dressed 
once before upon a similar occasion ? But you 
were not quite so flustrated then as this time. 
O my ! my heart is vascillating like a pendulum. 
Don’t you hear it ? No mistake this time ; and 
it hasn’t cost me any great outlay either, only 
I’ve promised to pay the parson, owing exclu- 
sively to the Professor’s not receiving expected 
remittances, which was the cause of his wishing 
me to loan him money. 

There they come, tapping at the door — our 
husbands , Dora. Do tell me if everything is 
right — quick ? my padding ? my powder ? my 
veil? Law! I don’t believe you see a thing, 
for all you stare at me so ! Be more composed, 
you little goose, or you’ll never get through 
the ceremony with the eclat which I desire to 
produce. Now, shall I unclose the door? He! 
he ! dearest, yes, we’re quite ready. How do 
we look, Mr, Little? How do we look, Profes- 
sor ? Don’t we make ruther a pretty pair of 
brides ? Be sure, now, you don’t mar the effect 
by any mistakes. Oh, / know the ceremony 


Miss Slimmens \ Boarding House, 87 

from beginning to end ! I’ve made it a study 
for the last few — years ? he ! he ! Mr. Little, 
I believe you’d have your joke if you was going 
to the gallows. Has the minister come? I feel 
so queer, Professor, and yet this is the happiest 
moment of my existence. Do I lean too heavily 
upon your atm ? I am so agitated I know not 
what I do. Come, Dora and Mr. Little; I sup- 
pose, as we are a trifle the eldest, we will pro- 
ceed you. Now, all right (in a low voice); no 
mistake this time. 

Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. Thank you, Mr. 
Wheeler. He ! he ! Do you really intend to 
salute the brides ? I suppose it will be useless 
to resist. Thank you, Mr. Stebbins, I hope I 
shall, Mrs. Stebbins. Miss Podd, Mr. Bethuen — 
he ! he ! — thank you. Miss Green, thank you ; 
I really trust What’s that ? 

Put her out ! put out that vile intruder, I say! 
Who dared to admit a strange woman into these 
apartments at this time? Why don’t some of 
you men take her by the arm and push her out 
into the street, where she belongs? You the 
wife of my husband ? You look like it, don’t 
you ? — ha ! ha ! His first and only lawful wife ? 
I should like to know who was his lawful wife, 
if I wasn’t ; it isn’t more than five minutes since 
the ceremony has been legally performed. And 
you dare to stand there, and — and — Professor 
Lankton, why don’t you stamp upon that brazen 


88 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


creature ? Why don’t you deny her infamous 
story? Haven’t you the spunk of a man? 
Then I’ll at her myself. 

I’ll tear your bonnet off your head, and 
scratch your eyes out, if you don’t quit my 
house this minute — this minute, I say! Oh! 
you needn’t fire up so, you little, pale, sickly 
thing you ; I could shake your breath out of 
you, if I wanted to ; but I won’t demean myself. 
No, I won’t demean myself; you can’t provoke 
me to. This is my bridal eve, and I’m not 
going to do anything unladylike or improper. 

It’s well for me that you arrived in this vil- 
lage as soon as you did ? Is it? — ha ! ha ! You’ve 
got your marriage certificate in your pocket, 
and six living witnesses, in the shape of six of 
the Professor’s children, at the hotel, besides ? 
You can have him arrested for bigamy, can 
you ? It isn’t the first time you’ve caught him 
at his tricks? Famous for swindling deluded 
females out of their money ? Makes his living 
out of his successes with women ? Left you 
and the babies penniless ? A nice story, and I 
suppose you expect me to believe it ? Why 
don’t you confront her, Professor? 

Professor Lankton — why, where has he gone 
to? Sneaking out, with your hat under your 
arm, are you, sir? Ha ! ha ! ha ! don't you wish 
you had that two hundred dollars you tried to 
borrow ? Got caught this time ? Any officers 


Miss Slimmens' Boarding House . 89 


at the door? Poor man ! how scared he looks! 
— ha ! ha ! ha ! I wish you joy of your wife and 
six young ones. Mrs. Professor Lankton, I 
wish you joy of this saintly being. Allow me 
to congratulate you upon your recovery. May 
your tender endearments console him for the 
loss of Alvira Slimmens and her little fortune ! 
Spirituo-phycology is a very elevating science. 
Good-night, Professor ; give my regards to your 
interesting little family. 

Ha ! ha ! ha ! have you shut the door on ’em, 
Mr. Little ? A nice joke on the Professor, 
wasn’t it ? I shall never forget how frightened 
he looked ; I guess he’s afraid of her nails, if 
she is little. Ha ! ha ! ha ! he ! he ! he ! I can’t 
help laughing to think of it ; it’s quite an ad- 
venture — good enough to put in the papers. 
Perhaps Mr. Little has got another wife some- 
where, Dora ; you can’t trust the male sex, you 
know. But we’ll eat the wedding-cake, ladies 
and gentlemen. Oh, yes, we won’t be cheated 
out of the wedding-supper. Supposing you give 
us some music, Mr. Barker ; music’s very com- 
posing. Sing — sing — “ This world is all a fleet- 
ing show” ? Oh, Mr. Little, you’re so funny ; 
you are, really — he ! he ! 

Mehitable Green, what are you grinning at ? 
Do you see anything particularly amusing, allow 
me to inquire? That woman will drive me dis- 
tracted yet. Go home ! get out of my house, I 


90 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


say ; you shan’t have one speck or morsel of 
the wedding-feast. You tormented me for 
years ; how dare you laugh at me ! There ! see 
if you will start now ! Oh, Dora, I beg your 
pardon ; I didn’t mean to have anything un- 
pleasant take place on your bridal eve. I could 
have put up with my own disappointment, for 
I didn’t set much store by that villain, anyhow; 
but that grinning, envious, ugly, malicious old 
maid threw me entirely off my guard. Stop 
crying, child, and laughing, too. I feel better 
since I pulled her wig off ; and I’ll go now, and 
see if the coffee is steeping. 


CHAPTER XI. 


SHE GOES TO MARKET — DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 

Ten o’clock. Susan, fly around with that 
ironing. You don’t get on at all. You and 
Caturah together don’t do as much as one girl 
ought to. Caturah, get on your bonnet, and 
bring the market-basket, and come along after 
me. I’m going to market, and we’ll have to be 
in a hurry about it if we get anything in time 
for dinner. It’s the best hour for going to 
market ; all the choice things are taken, and, of 
course, I have to put up with the cheap pieces, 
whether I want to or not. You won’t catch me 
giving my boarders sirloin roasts and porter- 
house steaks ; it isn’t what I keep boarders for. 
Hurry up, young one, with that basket. 

Good-morning, Mr. Betts. What’s the price 
of table-butter to-day? Thirty-five cents! 
humph ! you must think we boarding-house 
keepers are made of gold. Give me some of your 
twenty-seven cent butter ; I shan’t take any 
other till it gets cheaper. Celery, hey? how 
much a bunch? Fifteen cents! haven’t you 
any that’s partly stale, that you’d sell for less ? 
Wilted celery is good enough for boarders; and 


92 Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 


mine haven’t had any for so long they won’t 
know the difference. It’ll be a treat, if it is 
tough. Here’s a lot I’m sure you couldn’t dis- 
pose of to anybody else ; I’ll give you ten cents 
for it. Here, Caturah, take care of that celery ; 
and mind you don’t eat any on the sly. 

Yes, I am a little late this morning. Couldn’t 
get off any earlier. All your best pieces gone? 
Sorry. Thought I’d have a roast to-day, but, 
since I can’t have the sirloin, I won’t have any. 
That neck piece will make a very good stew, 
with dumplings and potatoes. Potatoes are 
dreadful high. I’ll have more dumplings than 
anything else, and that’ll make a dish they can 
fill up on. I suppose I must get a little some- 
thing besides, as some of my family won’t eat 
stew any longer. No, no! I don’t want any 
mutton-chops. What are fowls to-day? Oh, 
my ! I can’t think of fowls, at that price. I 
should sink money, to give my boarders fowls. 
Pshaw ! you aren’t in earnest, asking ten cents 
a pound for leg of mutton. I’ll tell you what I 
will take — a pound or two of that salt pork, 
just enough to season a basin of beans. Pork 
and beans are hearty, and cheaper than potatoes 
at a dollar a bushel. No, I don’t want any cab- 
bage ; I’ve celery for to-day ; it’s extravagant, 
I know, but I don’t mind it once in a while ; 
folks must be kept in good humor, when they 
get to grumbling too hard. 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 93 


Eggs? No, indeed. Don’t go to poking 
eggs at me, for a month yet. Eggs in Febru- 
ary ! Why, you’re crazy. Come to think, 
though, I’ll take a quarter of a dozen. One of 
my boarders is sick, and he asked, this morn- 
ing, if he couldn’t have a dropped egg on a bit 
of toast. Three cents apiece, eh ? Well, well, 
I shall charge him ten cents a-piece for ’em 
cooked. No business to be sick and make 
trouble, if he doesn’t expect to pay for it. Come 
along, Caturah. What keeps you lagging be- 
hind so? It’s heavy, is it ? not so heavy as it 
will be when these turnips are added. 

Well, I believe we’re through for to-day. 
Hurry up, child ; that stew will be as tough as 
old Mehitable. Green’s flesh, if it doesn’t get 
into the pot before long. I declare, I’m all out of 
breath — I don’t believe my breath holds out the 
way it used to — and this rheumatiz in my ankle 
is anything but agreeable. There’s Mr. Barker 
coming along the street. I’m going to pull my 
veil down ; this cold weather wrinkles me up so; 
I know I look as old as Methusalah when I’m 
out in the wind. The town clock’-s striking 
eleven, and we’re just home. It’s nothing but 
fret and stew from morning till night, and no 
chance of its ever being otherwise, as I see, 
since that scrape with that professor. 

Here, Susan, get this meat over, this minute, 
and them beans ; they’ve only two hours to do 


94 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


in. Don’t wait to finish anything. I declare, 
I believe you’ve ironed more’n six pieces since 
I went out. Caturah, take hold, and smooth 
them towels and napkins. Don’t stand there 
with your hand on your side, making believe 
that basket was so dreadful heavy. Children 
out of the poor-house must expect to work, 
they’re none too good ; everybody wasn’t born 
with a silver spoon in their mouth. 

For my part, I must trot up-stairs and see 
that sick man ; but I’ve this comfort — I charge 
him fifty cents every trip I make. I shouldn’t 
want any better business than boarding sick 
folks. In the first place, I charge ’em regular 
price for board, and, as they don’t eat anything, 
that’s pretty much all clear gain. In the next 
place, what they do eat is all extra, and I charge 
an extra price for that. Next, every time the 
help goes up to see if there’s anything wanted, 
it’s a quarter of a dollar ; and when / go to 
inquire how they’re getting along, why, it’s like 
the friend that calls at the doctor’s office, it’s 
fifty cents for a consultation. That man’s bill 
was eleven dollars last week, and it’ll be full as 
much this ; and all he eat, put together, wouldn’t 
keep a robin alive — a bit of dry toast and a cup 
of tea once or twice a day. 

Well, Mr. Smith, how do you find yourself 
to-day? A little better, hey? I’m rejoiced to 
hear it from the bottom of my heart ; for, if 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 95 


there's anything that’s truly touching to the 
feelings, it is to see a fellow-creature suffering, 
especially when they’re far from friends and 
home, though I trust this house will not seem 
altogether unlike home to you. I strive to 
make my family feel to home — especially the 
sick. Any appetite to-day? If there’s any 
little delicacy which you crave, you shall have 
it, if it’s to be found in Pennyville. I succeeded, 
after trying a long time, this morning, in pro- 
curing you some fresh eggs ; they were awful 
high, but I didn’t mind that. I am glad to hear 
you feel as if you could partake of a little sus- 
tenance to-day ; it’s a favorable symptom that 
you’ll now be adolescent. Though you must 
be very careful not to eat too much ; that’s the 
great danger, after a run of fever. I shouldn’t 
be doing the part of a sister by you if I didn’t 
warn you not to indulge your appetite. It’ll be 
sharp as a razor, when you come to get about 
again, and you’ll have to keep it unsatisfied, if 
you don’t want a prolapse. How’s your head? 
A little vinegar on a cloth kept on your forrid 
would be cooling; shall I send some up? Oh, 
no ! I don’t mind trouble, when a friend is suf- 
fering, and Caturah has nothing to do but run 
errands. Don’t be afraid to speak out for what- 
ever you want. Good-by. I’ll bring your din- 
ner up myself, if I can possibly find the leisure. 

Twice in one day will be a dollar, and I shall 


g6 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 

charge him for the vinegar. I needn’t feel any 
twinges of conscience, if he is a poor young 
man on a salary, who has to help his mother, 
for he’ll eat me out of house and home when 
he gets around again. I shall try to scare him 
out of it as far as possible. I’ve seen people 
that couldn’t eat enough, after such a spell as 
he’s had. 

I don’t make so much as I did the first part 
of the winter ; provisions are higher, and that 
shameful professor cheated me out of two 
weeks’ board, and that other fellow ran away 
owing me seven dollars. Pork and beans ! 
well, let ’em grumble if they’ve a mind to. 
It’s lucky for me there isn’t much competition 
in Pennyville ; I can do about as I please. 
“ Make hay while the sun shines” is my motto. 


CHAPTER XII. 


A NEW AND INTERESTING BOARDER. 

You needn’t slip that sewing out of sight, 
Dora ; I saw what it was ; and I don’t know as 
you’ve any particular occasion to blush. You 
have been married nigh on to four months 
now, and it’s about time to expect to see you 
drawing patterns on white flannel, and slipping 
linen cambric into your work-basket, and put- 
ting a piece of paper over it, when anybody 
comes in suddenly. Oh, you needn’t deny it ! 
A ruffled shirt-bosom for Mr. Little, is it?— he, 
he! Tell that to the moreens. I guess it’ll 
turn out to be something for a little mister, 
instead of a Mr. Little. There, now ! what 
would your husband say if he knew I’d beat 
him with his own weapons? That pun was as 
good as one of his’n. He’s a pleasant man, 
your husband is, and I’ve always felt that mak- 
ing a match between you and him was one of 
the best things I ever did. It gives me solid 
comfort to reflect upon it. 

I’ve come in to inquire if there’s anything 
you can think of you’d like for dinner, as I’ve 
noticed your appetite was rather changeable 


98 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 

recently, and to tell, you that I’ve got a new 
boarder. He’s selected the room back of Mr. 
Bethuen’s, although it’s small, because it looks 
down on Squire Waldon’s flower-garden. He 
says he’s so fond of flowers! and when you 
come to see him, you’ll believe him, for a 
sweeter-appearing young man I never saw ; 
and he has such a beautiful name, too — Edgar 
Clarence Evelyn ! Doesn’t that sound like a 
novel? He doesn’t seem to be more than 
twenty years old, and his hair curls around his 
temples, and his cheeks are as red as a girl’s. 
He says he thinks he shall remain all summer 
in Penny ville ; that he’s just come here to get 
away from city life and from something that 
troubles him, and all he wants is a pleasant 
place to walk out, and a nice, quiet room, 
where there’s a few trees in sight and some 
flowers. And oh ! he’s so melancholy, and so 
pensile, and so attractive to one’s imagination. 
I’ve made all kinds of stories up about him 
already. I suppose he’s been disappointed in 
his first love, and has fled from pain memories ; 
or, perhaps, the lady has a cruel father, and he 
keeps her from him because he’s poor ; but he 
can’t be poor, either, for his clothes was ex- 
quisite, and he’d plenty of money. Or, per- 
haps, he’s never been in love with anybody, 
but has read in poetry about the rusty beauty 
of village maidens, and has just come here to 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 99 


seek for adventures. Yet I don’t think that is 
it, or he wouldn’t have hinted that he had 
trouble on his mind, as he did when he looked 
down on the laylocks and tulips in the squire’s 
garden, and said “ Flowers were sweet com- 
forters, and drove painful thoughts away.” 

I can hardly wait till dinner-time for you to 
see him. He’s altogether the most deeply- 
interesting young gentleman I’ve ever met ; I 
never hoped nor dreamed that the village of 
Pennyville and Alvira Slimmens’ boarding- 
house would give shelter to such a beautiful 
and mysterious being. I feel that I can 
neither eat nor sleep until I obtain some 
glimpse of his history. If it wasn’t dishonora- 
ble, and I hadn’t become a member of the 
church this spring, I should be tempted to 
peep into his trunk when he was out, and see 
if he had any letters or photographs, or any- 
thing that would give us the clew. 

Do you think it inconsistent with my charac- 
ter as a professing Christian to manifest so 
deep an interest in any young man before I 
know whether he belongs to the world or not ? 
He looks just as innocent as a child; his eyes 
are as blue as them johnny-jump-ups in your 
vase there. I thought I never should write 
any other than sacred poetry hereafter — that 
my talents should be desecrated exclusively to 
hymns and psalms ; but if I should discover 


ioo Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


that he keeps an album, I don’t know that I 
should have the moral turpitude to refrain from 
adding a few, a very few verses to its pages, 
Mr. Bethuen might be displeased if he should 
ascertain it; but, somehow, I don’t think as 
much of Timothy Bethuen’s opinion as I used 
to, even a week ago. He’s a very good young 
man ; his character is unscrupulous ; nobody 
can cast a shadow upon that ; but he’s desper- 
ately humbly ; and he has no air about him ; 
he’s destitute of style, and his hair is as straight 
and as stiff as a broom, and jest about the 
color. I’ve boarded him cheap, and I’ve en- 
couraged him in every way that lay in my 
power, because I felt in so doing I was helping 
on the good cause; I did it in a missionary 
spirit exclusively. They say that charity be- 
gins at home, and I believe the education of 
young men for the ministry is a good work, and 
I’ve did my part by this one. I’ve stitched his 
collars, and made his clothes hold out twice as 
long as if I hadn’t have mended ’em ; but all 
that isn’t denying that he’s an awful plain 
young man. I’m afraid he’ll never cut much 
of a figure in the pulpit. Poor Timothy! he 
hasn't the gift of tongues. Maybe I shall be 
the means of bringing Mr. Evelyn to grace ; if 
I should, what a splendid instrument he would 
make for the conversion of thoughtless and 
heedless young women ! There wouldn’t be a 


M iss Slimmens Boarding House, i o i 

female in Pennyville but what would come into 
the flock. I’m sure he would make a second 
Splurgeon. Perhaps it’s going to be revealed 
to me that this is my mission. Would you 
believe, he never even asked me the price of 
board, but engaged his room at once, just 
because he liked it, without a single peculiary 
consideration ; so I can charge my own terms, 
which shows how generous and unexperienced 
in the ways of the world he is. Alvira Slim- 
mens, however, isn’t the person to take advan- 
tage of unsuspicious innocence ; I shan’t ask 
him but half a dollar more than I should if the 
terms had been agreed on. There’s only one 
thing I regret. Belle Waldon’s room looks 
right down into the garden, and she’s setting 
at her window half her time, this pleasant 
weather, singing, and sewing, and pulling at 
them rose-vines, and twisting her curls over her 
fingers, the idle thing, as if she’d no duties to 
perform and no serious thoughts of anything, 
because her father is rich and she’s handsome. 
I don’t know of any harm she’d do Mr. Evelyn, 
only she might distract his thoughts from 
higher things, in case I should feel it my duty 
to endeavor to convert him. I’m most sorry 
he picked out that room, since I’ve come to 
think about Belle. She’s no modesty about 
her, or, if she has, it’s swallowed up in vanity ; 
and if she should find out what a charming 


102 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


young man there was there, she’d be at her 
window more’n ever, pretending she never saw 
him, and making herself as pretty as she could 
all the time. I’ll keep a sharp eye on that girl, 
if I have to set up in the attic and peek 
through a hole to do it ; and if I discover any- 
thing the least improper, I shall feel bound to 
let her mother know how things are going on. 
Bless me ! how time does run on ! I must curl 
my hair before dinner, and change my dress. 
You didn’t say what you’d like, and I shan’t 
tell you beforehand that I am going to have 
sparrowgrass on toast, for I know that’s what 
you’ve been a-wanting this three days. Be 
sure and come down to the table, for I want 
the facility of introducing you to my new 
boarder, Edgar Clarence Evelyn, the mysteri- 
ous stranger ! 

There ! it’s just as I expected ! There’s that 
giddy girl making signs out of her window 
a’ready, actually kissing her hand over this 
way, and he hasn’t been in the house a week 
yet. Well, I never! I’m glad I stole up here, 
if it is rather dusty, and rubbed off this pane 
of glass, so I can have a good view of what’s 
going on. She ought to be ashamed of herself. 
Now, then, what’s the meaning of that? Talk- 
ing with her fingers, as sure as my name is 
Alvira Slimmens ! I’ll put a stop to such pro- 
ceedings, if they’re carried on much longer, by 


Miss Slimmens ' Boarding House. 103 

just putting on my bonnet, and stepping round 
and letting her mother know what’s transpir- 
ing under her very nose without her seeing it. 
Such an indelicate, bold, immodest creature! a 
perfect stranger, and throwing kisses to him 
out of a back window ! I wish I understood 
the deaf-and-dumb alphabet ; I’d find out what 
mischief was afoot. I wonder where she 
learned it; of course, at that seminary. Young 
girls are just sent away to school nowadays to 
learn all kinds of mischief and carry on all kinds 
of capers. I’ll stay in this garret as long as she 
keeps at that window, if it’s till tea-time. I 
hope and pray it ain’t anybody she got ac- 
quainted with at that seminary, and that has 
followed her to Pennyville in this romantic 
manner. It would make a very pretty story, 
'specially if there should be an elopement ; but 
it wouldn’t agree with my plans. Just see that 
saucy jade ! I declare, I can hardly retain 
myself ! 

Humph ! there’s her brother coming into her 
room ; he’s at the window, too, pulling Belle’s 
hair, and cutting up as wild as usual. How 
quick Mr. Evelyn shoved his chair back out of 
sight ; I heard it scraping over the carpet. No 
doubt he’s very busy just now reading “ Lalla 
Rookh,” or making pictures in that book of his. 
It looks suspicious to see him getting out of 
sight when her brother makes his appearance. 


104 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 

I’m afraid it’s a love affair ! If I make up my 
mind, certainly, without doubt, that it is, I’ll 
put a flea in Mrs. Waldon’s ear — I shall only be 
doing a Christian and neighborly deed to let 
her know about such goings on. 

I expect Susan’s doing them pies dreadful, 
and Caturah’s out there in the yard, throwing 
stones at the chickens, instead of keeping at 
them dried apples, as I told her to ; but I’m not 
going down, if the hull house goes to wrack 
and ruin, as long as that forward chit stays at 
that window ; I’ve too great a regard for Mrs. 
Waldon. If she only knew who was peeking 
at her through a cracked pane of glass in a 
garret window, she’d be a trifle more careful 
how she flirted and carried on. For the land’s 
sake ! what are they laughing at ? both of ’em ! 
How I wish I could see through this floor ! It’s 
something that fellow is doing at his window ; 
they’re both looking over here and laughing to 
kill. I wish I was peeking through the key- 
hole of his apartment. 

He almost always takes a walk after tea, and 
I’m going to slip into his room when lie’s out 
and ascertain if I can discover anything, pro- 
vided he don’t lock his door, which he always 
does. As luck will have it, I believe the key 
to my clothes-closet fits that very door, which 
is all the better for me. He’ll never dream any 
one’s been in, and I can go whenever he isn’t 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 105 


about. There, she’s beat a retreat at last — put- 
ting on her bonnet to go out — and I can go and 
overhaul that Caturah, provided I don’t break 
my neck getting down. 

How sweet he did look, as he stepped down 
the front steps, with that bunch of violets stuck 
in his buttonhole, and looking back and kissing 
his hand to me with that smile of his. It set 
my heart to oscillating so, it hasn’t got over it 
yet. Ah, me, I’m infatuated with that young 
man, perfectly infatuated, and I can’t help it, 
if I did join the church to please Timothy 
Bethuen. Yes, this key just fits. He won’t 
be out less than half an hour, which’ll give time 
to take a good look. Now, then, let me see 
how my Edgar Clarence passes his precious 
time. Here’s books — “ Byron,” “ Moore,” “ Mrs. 
Browning,” “ Longfellow,” “ Kate in search of 
a Husband,” “ Devereaux,” “The Wide, Wide 
World,” “Jane Eyre,” “Consuelo,” “ Corinne,” 
“ Dombey and Son.” My, how romantic ! nov- 
els, and poetry, and two books in French, and 
here’s an album ; yes, but it isn’t his own, it’s 
some young lady’s, that has lent it to him to 
write in, for here’s the name — “ Miss Helen 
Hewitt.” It isn’t Belle Waldon’s, any way, and 
that’s some comfort. 

My, what a little foot he’s got ! that’s the 
sweetest pair of boots I ever saw, and them 
slippers would fit a girl. He don’t appear to 


io6 Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 


have any bad habits ; there are no pipes nor 
mereshams, nor smell of tobacco about ; and his 
bed and his room are as neat as a woman’s- 
Oh, my, if this isn’t curious ; here’s a thimble, a 
little gold thimble, with them same initials on, 
“ H. H.” That girl must be crazy after him, 
to let him carry off her thimble ; and bless me, 
if he hasn’t been using it ! He’s sewed that 
button on to that shirt as well as I could have 
done it. What a darling shirt that is 1 the ruf- 
fle is linen-cambric as fine as a handkerchief, 
and them sweet little turquoise buttons! I 
could kiss it, just as it lays there on the table. 
Here’s a bouquet, all faded and dead ; of course 
he’d never miss it, and I could take it and keep 
it as a sovereign of his stay at my boarding- 
house. If that album was his own, I would 
write some verses in it, some time when he was 
out, and he’d never know who did it or how 
they came there, unless it was by clairvoyage. 
I mean to inscribe some lines on a nice sheet of 
paper, and slip ’em under the door. And here’s 
a blank-book all full of drawings as good as any 
that portrait-painter that boarded here awhile 
could make — faces, and flowers, and trees, and 
eyes, and noses, and chairs, and landscapes ; he’s 
got every accomplishment under the sun. I 
do think he isn’t much short of a cherub of 
light. Ah, ha ! here’s a profile of Belle Waldon ! 
that’s what he was about, and maybe he showed 


Miss Slimmens * Boarding House. 107 


it to her when they laughed. He's made her 
full as handsome as she is ! And here’s — is that 
his voice I hear in the hall? bless me, how quick 
he’s returned. I’m so flurrid I’ll never get this 
door locked. I hope I left them things as I 
found ’em. There, it’s locked at last. 

O Mr. Evelyn ! is that you ? did you just 
come from your apartment, or have you been 
out for your customary walk? He! he! thank 
you ! I shall be very happy, certainly, to ac- 
company you the next time you go out. I’m 
well acquainted with all the most seclusive and 
attracting parts of our village. I often seek its 
sequestered glades at this season of the year, 
when the robins begin to warble and the flow- 
ers to spring. Youth has ever its own conge- 
nial tastes. I sympathize with the frisking 
lambs and the sweet little bluebirds. But I 
am retaining you from twilight reveries. Come 
down to my bodoor, do ! whenever you feel 
like it ; I shall be there this evening. Did I 
not hear you drumming upo*n my guitar? I’m 
sure you play ; I should esteem it a great treat 
to have you make free use of it. Remember! 
this evening, I shall be “ at home” in Alvira’s 
bodoor. 

I’ve got them Verses done at last, and I think 
they’re the best I ever writ. I don’t think any 
of the lines I dedicated to that heartless Cam- 
bric student were equal to these. I shall copy 


io8 Miss Slimmens ' Boarding House, 


them off very carefully and slip ’em under the 
door of his room, and leave him to guess where 
they came from. I believe I was transpired 
when I wrote that poem. It’ll have its effect, 
if anything can, ’specially when it’s enveloped 
in so much mystery. Getting it from he don’t 
know who and he can’t tell how, finding it 
under his door or on his table, will give it an 
air of interest which will add to its effect. Pink 
or blue? which shall it be? Blue is true, and 
pink is a declaration of love. I believe I’ll 
choose the pink. He plays the guitar like a 
melodeon ; and I’m sure he meant something 
when he read those lines to me last night. I 
must finish these before I seek the retiracy of 
my bed, if this rheumatiz in my hand don’t 
spoil my writing. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


WHAT THE HEART OF A MAIDEN SAID TO A 
YOUNG MAN. 

Lines Dedicated to Edgar Clarence E . 

Tell me not in mournful members 
Life is but an empty stream; 

In my bosom glows its embers, 

And things are not what they seem. 

All those thought-distracting tresses 
Round thy classic profile wreathe, 

Fan thy brow with soft caresses, 

Kiss the cheeks that blush beneath. 

Life is earnest, life is real, 

And the grave is not a jail; 

Thou fill’st my heart’s sublime ideal 
Full, as fountains fill a pail. 

Art is long and charms are fleeting — 

Rome was built not in a day — 

Like a drum my heart is beating, 

Like a flute my pulses play. 

Oh, my Edgar Clarence ! darling! 

What’s the apex of my life ? 

To comb that silken hair ensnarling, 

To feel thy lips, to be thy wife ! 

Yet I’d die ere I would say it — 

Lest thou scorn her love and slight her, 

Yes ! She’d die ere she’d betray it, 

Who it was that is the writer. 


no Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


Thou shalt never guess the being 
Perched upon love’s eagle eyrie, 

Like the timid wild fawn fleeing, 

Never know her name’s A1 . 

Not engagement and not sorrow 
Is our inclined end or way, 

But to act that each to-morrow 
Finds us nearer than to-day. 

Eyes as black as elderberries, 

Hands as small as any girl’s, 

Lips as dulcet red as cherries, 

Rosy cheeks, and silky curls ! 

Is it any special wonder 
Thy attractions I adore, 

That I tune my lyre to ponder 
On the in — some one's bodoor ? 

No, it is not ! No resistance 
Can subdue my youthful heart ! 

Time, nor tide, nor scorn, nor distance 
Can my thoughts from Edgar part! 

Go, thou peerless one! get married! 
Thou shalt never, never know, 

Even when she’s dead and buried, 
What fond girl adored thee so. 

Go, get married! press another 
To thy wildly heaving breast! 

Her sensations she will smother, 

In the grave she’ll soon find rest! 

Go and wed! she will not hinder, 
Travelling up life’s stormy stair, 

Though another from her window, 

Seek thy innocence to snare. 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 1 1 1 


Go, forget me! and to-morrow 
Smile on other maids that smile! 

Think not of A1 ’s sorrow, 

Yonder dim and distant isle. 

Only one thing I desire thee — 

Leave a curl of thy sweet hair 

To be buried with A1 

In the grave of her despair. 

If ever there was a mortal transported to 
another spear of infinitesimal delight, it’s me, 
myself, Alvira Slimmens. He says that he 
loves me ! he has responded to that poetry, in 
a manner so sweet, so subduing, so gratuitous ! 
But I must recall my senses, I must live over 
again, in reflection, the happiness that was 
mine, only last evening. Last evening my 
hand nestled in his’n, my head reposed upon 
his shoulder, his curls brushed my cheek as he 
whispered — what’s that, Caturah ? I don’t care. 
Tell her to get anything she’s a mind to. Put 
on pound-cake and preserves, only don’t bother 
me — clear out ! I can’t and won’t be disturbed 
when I’m making up my housekeeping ac- 
counts. There ! I’ve shut and locked the door, 
and I’ll see if I can have a minute’s peace of 
mind. What do I care what they get for tea? 
I wouldn’t care if I never eat anything again 
as long as I lived ; I feel as light as a feather ; 
I can hardly refrain from jumping up and 
down. Let Dora make up them pretty little 


1 1 2 Miss Slimmens ' Boarding House . 


fixings, and Mr. Little set and look at her as if 
he’d eat her up, and Mr. Barker go a-courting 
Philasta Podd seven times a week, and Timothy 
Bethuen wait on Philastina home from meeting ; 
my destiny is settled, and I survey the pros- 
pects of them all with triumph. Oh, how 
sweet them laylocks smell ! And he’s fond of 
laylocks — he said so when I put a pitcher full 
of ’em on the mantletry shelf of his room. 

But where was I ? I want to recall again 
every one of my sensations. And it was so 
totally unexpected ! I hadn’t the least idea in 
the world but that he was mad in love with 
that Belle Waldon ; it looked suspiciously like 
it. I’d been up in the garret from two to 
three hours every afternoon for more’n a week, 
spying out their didoes. There she was, every 
blessed day, at that window, throwing out flow- 
ers and kissing her fingers, laughing and mak- 
ing faces, and talking by signs ; and then put- 
ting on her bonnet and going out to walk, and 
he a-going out a few minutes afterward. I 
knew he joined her before I followed ’em to 
see for certain * and if her brother hadn’t been 
along, too, to give a kind of air of propriety to 
the thing, I should have felt bound to let Mrs. 
Waldon know what was going on. Dear me ! 
I wonder what they let him hang about so for ! 
If I had a lover as perfectly respectable as 
Mr. Evelyn, I wouldn’t have any brother along 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 113 


like watching Gorgons ; and I suppose it was 
only because he wasn't her lover, but mine, 
after all, that they let him be with her so much. 
He’s told me all about it now — that it wasn’t 
Belle he knew the best, but her brother ; that 
they were college chums ; that they graduated 
at the same time, and that he’s come here 
a-purpose to see him; that Henry Waldon was 
dreadful anxious to make a match between him 
and his sister, and that he might have made 
out if I, me, myself, Alvira Slimmens, hadn’t 
interfused like an angel of light to prevent — 
them were his very words — by myself securing 
his devotionate regards, his first, first love ; and 
then he sang ; 

“ Oh, there's nothing half so sweet in life 
As love’s young dream. ” 

I confessed to him that I thought so, too, that 
this was my first real attachment; and he 
squeezed my hand, and looked at me so — I can 
hardly endure to recall it yet, it was so thrilling. 
And it all came about of my hinting to him, in 
a laughing kind of a way, that somebody had 
sharp eyes, and somebody had seen certain rather 
curious circumstances taking place between two 
windows. We were sitting side by side on the 
sofa in my bodoor. He’d been playing on my 
guitar, and I jest allowed my hand to touch his, 
by accident, and then I attempted to snatch it 


1 1 4 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


away, and when he retained it, I told him very 
archly that he needn’t press my fingers so, when 
I’d seen another person kissing hers to him that 
very afternoon ; and then he smiled, and 
squeezed it all the harder, and looked at me so 
thrillingly with those bright eyes, and sat up 
closer by me, and said: “Ah! Miss Slimmens, 
don’t think my heart is there; it’s only a pre- 
tence, to cover up my real feelings. I have 
never seen but one being who fully realized my 
idea of what a woman can be, and she — she — 
sits by my side ! Darling Alvira ! need I say 
more?” And then my head sunk on his shoul- 
der, and I whispered that he need’nt. He’s so 
modest, too! he almost blushed when I at 
tempted to kiss him ; he was full as reluctant 
as a girl. But he’s so young. I might be his 
mother; but he’s too innocent to suspect it. 
I’ve often heard that boys always fall in love 
the first time with women older than them- 
selves, and it seems it is even so. After a 
while we had some such pleasant conversation. 
He asked me if I knew who put a certain beauti- 
ful poem under his door, said it was unique, 
perfectly unique, and had been one of the first 
things to fix his particular regards upon the 
fair authoress. He could not, he knew he 
could not be mistaken in his intuitions as to 
who it was, nor that the initials at the bottom 
— “ A. S.” — stood for Alvira Slimmens. I said 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 1 1 5 


that I was afraid that he would be afraid of an 
intellectual being, a woman who wrote out the 
infusion of her soul; but he replied that a 
woman had as good a right to be “ blue” as a 
violet or a larkspur, that the violet couldn’t 
help its color, and that the bosom where such 
poetry burned and glowed must express itself, 
or burst ! 

Oh ! it was beautiful ! I was edified by his 
thoughts; only I was so alla-tremble with bliss 
that I could think of nothing else but that I was 
nestling by his side and that my hand reposed 
in his. Only last evening that I was so happy ! 
I urged him to set the wedding-day and — hark ! 
he is entering his apartment now. How I start 
at the sound of his footstep ! his tiny, tiny foot- 
step, encased in those dear patent-leather gai- 
ters. He’s so exquisite in his dress, and his 
handkerchiefs always smell of heliotrope. Ah ! 
me, I’m too satisfied for earth ! Let the bold 
minx look and giggle out of her window, if she’s 
a mind to ; it can’t affect me now. But I’ll 
just steal up to the attic and see if she is a-per- 
forming as usual. I would go down to my bo- 
door if I thought he would follow me ; but, as 
I can’t see him until tea-time, I’ll keep an eye 
on that girl. 

Yes ! just as usual ! Pretending to sew, and 
stealing looks out of her eyes all the time. Her 
mouth keeps dimpling with the laugh in her ; 


1 1 6 Miss Slhnmens Boarding House. 


but I guess she’ll have on another face before 
long. It is evident he has not told her yet. 
There ! down goes her sewing on the floor, and 
up goes her hand over her eyes, and she’s star- 
ing and staring — my ! such talking across lots I 
never saw. 

Oh, dear! I’m so tired of expecting him 
every instance ; I wonder what’s keeping him. 
He went out for his walk after tea, and he 
hasn’t come in yet, and it’s nigh on to nine 
o’clock. Last night, at this hour, I was by his 
side here on this sofa, listening to his gentle 
voice. It is true that it was I who first hinted 
at love — I offered him my hand and fortune ; 
but it’s Leap Year, thank the fates, and I’d a 
perfect right. He responded instantaneously ; 
he said I was all his fancy painted me, and more 
— much more. I believe I’ll just steal into his 
room and see what I can see, for I know he’s 
out. I should have heard his step if he walked 
on eggs, for I’ve been doing nothing but listen- 
ing since nine o’clock. I shall hear him when 
he comes in, in time to meet him on the stairs 
and invite him into my bodoor. 

How sweet his apartment smells ! it’s like a 
rose — 

‘ ‘ Ethereal ! it is 

His breathing that perfumes his chamber thus!” 

as Milton says. It almost takes my breath 
away to step into it ; it sort of frightens me, 


Miss Slimmens ’ Boarding House . 1 1 7 


and pleases me, too. I do believe I love that 
boy. I’ll just take a peep, and back again to 
meet him. His trunk’s standing open; it’s 
always been locked with a patent lock, and I’ve 
never been able to see the inside of it before. 

Well, if this isn’t curious! Ladies’ clothes, 
dresses, petticoats, shawls, jewelry ! Can my 
Edgar be a robber, be a smuggler who enters 
boarding-houses only to secure the wearing ap- 
parel of its inmates ? No! the thought is too 
enervating ; besides, if innocence was ever im- 
pressed upon a mortal face, it is on his. He’s 
incapable of any deceit. Here, on the band of 
these — these garments, and on these handker- 
chiefs, are the same mysterious initials ; they’re 
all marked “ H. H.,” and some of ’em “ Helen 
Hewitt,” and done with it. It can’t be a sister, 
for it isn’t the same name as Evelyn, that’s 
plain ; it can’t be the clothing of a dead young 
woman to whom he has been engaged to be 
married, for he told me with his own lips that 
he’d never loved any but myself. Oh, dear ! I 
wish I knew. I shan’t sleep a wink to-night, 
not a wink, in my endeavors to fathom this 
very peculiar and anonymous circumstance. 

Ah-h! perhaps this will tell something! 
Here’s the photograph of a female; it looks 
enough like him to be his sister — it is his sister ; 
and she must be married, young as she looks, 
to a gentleman by the name of Hewitt. How 


1 1 8 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


simple, after all, and I to be suspecting him of 
being a smuggler — him — my precious Edgar ! 
I could fairly kiss his sister’s picture, I feel so 
relieved. She’s got nice clothes, anyhow ; they 

must be a very good fami Mercy, Mr. 

Evelyn ! I beg your pardon ! I really did not 
hear you come in. You see, I was passing by, 
and found your door open, and your trunk 
standing wide, and I was afraid some smuggler 
had entered the premises and been robbing you. 
I just stepped in to see if anything was missing, 
and to close your trunk for you. Went out in 
a great hurry, and wasn’t aware you left it 
open ? Perhaps you didn’t. You’d better look 
round and see if any of your property is miss- 
ing. I just this instance stepped in, and 
haven’t had time to see a thing yet. Why, 
you’ve shut that trunk without hardly looking 
to see its contents. Never mind ; you’re money 
is in the other one? You’re so careless and 
unsuspicious; just like one of your age. Do 
you know, my darling, how long this evening 
has seemed ? What kept you ? I waited in my 
bodoor for your footstep until my heart ached. 
Sit down here, dearest, and whisper to your 
Alvira what it was that detained you. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


HOW SHE CAME TO TAKE A LADY BOARDER. 

I don’t know hardly why I feel so uneasy 
this afternoon, unless it’s because Edgar was 
out at dinner-time. I’ve got so I can’t endure 
to have him out of sight, and yet we’ve only 
been engaged three days. I had spring chick- 
ens stewed in cream a purpose for him, and he 
wasn’t here after all ; and I had the satisfaction 
of seeing that Timothy Bethuen eat at least 
two thirds of a chicken, and my beloved Edgar 
never to have a taste. I’d tell Timothy, out 
and out, that I couldn’t board him at the price 
I’ve been doing, less than any of the rest of 
my boarders, any longer, if I expected to keep 
boarding-house many weeks more ; but as I 
don’t, I guess I won’t turn the poor fellow away 
till they all go. I warrant he was surprised not 
to find his socks darned, this washing ; but I’ve 
done with darning old socks in hopes of catch- 
ing a preacher. Miss Slimmens’ prospects have 
brightened of late. I do feel terribly uneasy, 
though. I believe I’ll take another recontre 
out of that garret-window, to pass away the 
time. Belle Waldon’s been making up a mighty 


120 Miss Slimmens' Boarding House, 


pretty white dress lately, pretty enough for 
a bride ; but I guess nobody has asked her to 
have him, for all that. I wonder at her making 
it up herself, too, when they generally hire all 
their dressmaking done. It was about finished 
yesterday; she was putting the lace on the 
sleeves. I’ll just climb up to my lookout, and 
see what she’s about next. 

Well, did I ever! A wedding, sure enough! 
I can see all over the room pretty much. There 
is Belle, dressed in white, with a wreath on her 
head; and there’s somebody else standing before 
the glass, in that very dress Belle was making, 
and Belle is fixing a veil on her hair. Thai's 
the one that’s going to be married, sure. I 
wish she’d turn her head so I could see her 
face! I’ll perish of curiosity in less than two 
minutes, if she doesn’t look round. What a 
flutter they’re in! Why wont she turn her 
head. 

As sure as I’m alive, it’s that very girl whose 
picture I saw. Yes, it’s Helen Hewitt; it’s his 
sister, and I’ll bet he’s over there now. Why 
didn’t he invite me to the wedding, I’d like to 
know ! Who’s entitled to his confidence if I 
am not? No, I’m not mistaken. Dear! dear! 
If I could only see through a grindstone, I’d 
know what was going on. That provoking cur- 
tain has just fell down of itself, a purpose to 
vex me. 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 1 2 1 


There’s that Caturah, hollering after me as 
loud as she can; but I’m not going to hear her 
just yet. What’s that she says? A strange 
gentleman in the parlor wants to see me im- 
mediately, on important business! Well, won- 
ders never cease! What he can want is the 
question; I must go and see. They’ve put 
that curtain down, anyhow, and it’s no use to 
stand here peeking. 

Good-afternoon, sir. Have I taken any young 
lady to board lately? and if so, is she in the 
house now? No, sir ! this is a gentlemen’s 
boarding-house exclusively, sir. Your daughter, 
sir? And you’ve been informed that she has 
been residing under this roof for several weeks ? 
It’s a mistake. There’s been a very nice young 
gentleman here for some time — a stranger. 
Evelyn — Edgar C. Evelyn, sir, is his name. 
Describe his personal appearance? Really, I 
don’t know as you’ve any right to inquire ; but, 
as I’ve no objections, I think I’ll answer you. 
Very handsome, but small ; black eyes, full of 
fire ; wavy ringlets ; small hands and feet ; low 
voice ; rosy lips ; a cunning little scar on his left 
cheek. No, sir, he’s not in the house now ; he 
was not at home to dinner, and has not come 
in yet. 

Your daughter ? Mr. Evelyn your daughter? 
You heard she’d dressed herself up like a man? 
Foolish child ! Oh, I see through it all now ; 


12 2 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


but hurry, or you’ll be too late. They’re get- 
ting married now, this minute, and you’ll be too 
late. I’ll show you the house — right round the 
corner, on the other side of the block. I’ll 
go with you, if you'll Wait till I catch up a 
bonnet. 

Too late, sir. There’s the minister coming 
away, and there’s the squire’s buggy flying 
around the corner. You can go in, if you want 
to, and I’ll go back home, but your bird has 
flown ; I saw her in that buggy with Harry 
Waldon, and they’ve been married this half 
hour, I know too well. 

An account of the affair in the Pennyville 
Eagle ? Let me see it, Dora, do ! (Reads.) 

“ HIGHLY ROMANTIC AFFAIR. 

“ A highly romantic affair disturbed the usual 
quiet of our little village a day or two ago, 
which has furnished subjects for the gossips of 
the most exciting character. As we happen to 
be in the confidence of one of the parties, and 
as the affair is likely to become public any way. 
we will give the correct version. Our friend 
Harry Waldon, ‘ the best fellow that ever lived,' 
and well known to all our citizens, fell in love 
while at college with a pretty girl, a mischiev- 
ous, wild, enchanting creature, and withal an 
heiress. Whether her parents thought her too 
precious to bestow upon anybody, or whether 
they did not fully appreciate the excellent quali- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 123 


ties of our friend Harry, deponent sayeth not, 
but they opposed the match, and Harry came 
home to ‘ watch and wait ’ until some change 
should take place. Soon after arrived in town 
and stopped at a certain popular boarding- 
house, kept by a maiden lady, a young gentle- 
man of modest and graceful demeanor and 
fashionable appearance. He created quite a 
sensation. He was delicate, almost feminine, 
in his appearance. His window overlooked the 
garden and residence of Squire Waldon. All 
went on smoothly. We noticed that our friend 
Harry wore a radiant countenance. We won- 
dered at the change in his demeanor. We 
ceased to rally him upon his pensive appearance. 

But we didn't know Who did ? Nobody. 

One day an elderly gentleman arrived in search 
of a fair fugitive. But he was ten minutes too 
late. Warning had been received. As he 

stepped out of Miss ’s boarding-house the 

minister stepped out of Squire Waldon’s. A 
swift horse bore the happy couple to the ex- 
pected train. What more remains to be said ? 
We wish them a long life and plenty of happi- 
ness, only hoping that the charming lady will 
never again feel the inclination, or the necessity 
for — as it is vulgarly expressed — donning the 
masculine nether habiliments — in short, wear- 
ing the breeches.” 

May I take the paper to my room, Dora? 
Humph! the impudent jade! — and to think 
that I actually kissed her! My blood boils 
when I think of it ; and it boils harder still when 
I read that scrap of paper picked up in her 


124 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


room after she went away. Let me look at it 
again. 

“ Such fun, Belle, such fun alive ! I thought I 
should have suffocated ’ She wanted to kiss 
me, but I resisted a long time, for I was afraid 
she took snuff , but at last she conquered me — 
she was the strongest. However, she doesn't 
take snuff. The kiss, whatever else it was, was 
not snuffy ” 

Ha ! snuffy, indeed ! If ever he brings his 
bride back here she’ll get her dress torn some 
day. She didn’t reflect she was making an 
enemy for life. Harry Waldon had better 
settle in some other place, if he wishes his wife 
to have any peace. I’ll have my revenge for 
that scrap of paper yet ! 


CHAPTER XV. 


RAT EXTERMINATOR. 

What’s that you remarked, Dr. Burton? Ar- 
senic ? Oh, my ! I thought that horrid stuff was 
only good for killing rats or committing suicide ! 
It’ll make a woman of fifty, you say, as fair and 
blooming as a girl of twenty, and it’s wonderful 
for fattening people up ? If I was in any danger 
of getting to be forty or fifty years old very 
soon, I believe I’d commence taking it, to pre- 
serve my complexion. I don’t suppose I shall 
ever need fattening, though I look rather thin 
in the face ; it runs in the Slimmens family to 
be thin in the face, and fleshy otherwise. Them 
Circassian women must be dreadfully vain fe- 
males, to take such terrible stuff as arsenic to 
keep themselves white and soft. Don’t you 
think so, Mr. Bethuen? Don’t you think it 
perfectly unexcusable for the feminine sex to 
be given to such arts ? Their minds ought to be 
set on higher things, Mr. Bethuen, on higher 
things, I’ve long felt. But I suppose them 
Circassian ladies are heathens and Mahomaders, 
and don’t know any better. Don’t you ever 
feel as if you had a call to go and teach them 


126 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


better? Only to reflect upon their eating 
arsenic like sugar candy, and we sitting here in 
our comfortable homes, and never making an 
effort in their behalf ! Oh, Mr. Bethuen, it’s 
disparaging to our benevolence that such is the 
fact ! But it is not so bad in them as to think 
that English women and our own American 
girls are a-going and doing the same, as much 
as they durst. 

Eating arsenic to make themselves look fair, 
you say, Dr. Burton? I’m glad you told me ; 
I’m glad I'm warned against the depravity 
which exists in our midst. After this, when I 
see anybody very plump and white, I shall be 
sure they are arsenic eaters. There’s them 
twins, Philista and Philistina Podd, as fat and 

babyish Oh, you needn’t color up so, Mr. 

Barker; I didn’t mean nothing, only I wished 
to warn Mr. Bethuen of what might be. It 
would be dreadful for a minister of the gospel 
to find out that his wife was a suicide, as it 
were, a self-poisoner, and all for the vain glory 
of the flesh. Durstn't never leave it off, after 
they’ve once become victims to its pernicious 
influence ? Have to keep on taking more and 
more? O doctor! And how much is it safe 
to begin with ? I merely inquire to satisfy a 
physical curiosity. How many did you say, 
Mr. Little? Forty grains? You should think 
the ladies would have scruples against taking 


Miss Slimmens ’ Boarding House. 127 


such drachms ? — he ! he ! But that’s borrowed 
wit, for I’ve heard it before. 

Have some more of the fried trout, doctor; 
they didn’t cost me anything, for Mr. Little 
caught ’em himself, and made ’em a present to 
the house, so you can thank him for 'em. Have 
some more, Dora, do. Dear, dear, what a light 
and trifling generation this is getting to be ! 
Hoops and bustles, and crinoline enough for a 
balloon, and now it’s arsenic for an emetic. He, 
Mr. Little? Tartar emetic, you should call it, 
considering where it originated. You jest about 
the soberest subjects. He’s a little too much 
of a jesticulator ; don’t you think so, Mr. 
Bethuen ? 

O Lord of mercy! I’ve went, and gone and 
done it ! I know I have ! I feel it here ! Com- 
mitted suicide! I’ve gone and killed myself! 
Oh, how it burns ! my stomach’s all a-fire ! Oh, 
I wish I hadn’t — I wish I hadn’t tried it ; but I 
was so awful yellow, and it would show through 
spite of all I could do, and so wrinkly, and now 
I’ve gone and poisoned myself. I’ve taken too 
much ! it’s eating me up and burning me up 
alive! Dora! Dora ! where are you ! Oh! let 
me in, and tell me what to do! I’m sick — I’m 
poisoned with arsenic ! I jest took a little, not 
much bigger than a quinine powder ; and my 
stomach’s all griping up and burning like fire. 
Take an antidote? What? Eggs? Oh, dear, 


128 Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 


I wonder if there’s any in the house; I’ll go 
and see. You go and find out where the doctor 
is. If he isn’t in his room, send Caturah after 
him — quick. Never mind the eggs; run for 
the doctor. Oh-h-h ! Susan, where’s the eggs ? 
Bring me some. Here ! hand ’em to me — a 
dozen. Oh-h-h ! 

There! I have swallowed a dozen raw. O 
doctor! is that you? I’m afraid you’re too 
late. I’m poisoned; I’m dying dead this min- 
ute. Did you bring your stomach pump? Ar- 
senic — it’s arsenic. I'll open my mouth. Oh-h-h ! 

I believe I feel better. Do you think it’s all 
up ? Do you think I’m out of danger? O doctor ! 
I’ve run a narrow risk this time. It all comes 
of them pesky rats! I got some vermifuge, or 
exterminator, or whatever you call it, and put 
it on a plate in the pantry to keep the rats 
away ; and somehow I forgot, and mistook it 
for sugar, and sweetened some lemonade with 
it I was making, the day was so warm. I never 
thought, till I begun to be sick, what was the 
matter. O doctor ! if it hadn’t been for them 

eggs and that pump I shudder to think 

Yes, I’ll lay down; I feel as weak as a cat. If 
you will jest help me up the stairs, I’ll go to 
bed. Dora? Yes, I’m afraid I scart her most 
to death. After I’m comfortable, you’d better 
go and see if the excitement has hurt her. 
Oh, my, them pesky rats! There! that’ll do. 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 129 

Come in again after supper, and see how I am. 
And, doctor, a word more — be sure and let the 
boarders know it was them pesky insects that 
did it. 

Now’t I’m out of danger, you’ll never catch 
me at that again, not if I get to be yellower 
than brimstun itself, and need bleaching more’n 
old Aunt Peggy’s best bunnit. My sensations 
were undescribable ; I hardly knew which it was 
best to send for — the doctor or Mr. Bethuen. 
I hope Timothy Bethuen won’t distrust the 
truth of the matter. I didn’t much more than 
begin to feel better until I luckily thought of 
laying it to the rats. Nobody’ll guess the truth 
but Dora, and she’s seen me in too many pre- 
dicaments for me to care for her. She’s a good 
soul, for she never betrays me ; but now that 
she’s a husband, it will be different. I’m awful 
afraid she’ll confide it to him, and he’s so fond 
of fun, he’ll let it all out ; he’s an awful person 
to get jokes on people. I feel as weak and used 
up as if I’d been sick a month. I shall have to 
keep my room two or three days at least ; and 
there’s them currants getting too ripe for jelly, 
and the house a-going to rack and ruin, with 
nobody to watch them everlasting girls. But 
I’m thankful I’m alive, currant jelly or no cur- 
rant jelly ; and the next time anybody catches 
me taking arsenic to bleach myself, they may set 
me down for a bigger simpleton than I am. I’m 


130 Miss Slimmens' Boarding House. 


afraid there’s no such thing as making a young 
woman out of an old one, as easy as making a 
new Tuscan out of an old one. I hate to give 
up — I cant , that’s the long and short of it. But 
ugh, that arsenic. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


M BLESS US ! THIS IS PLEASANT RIDING ON THE 
RAIL.” 

I’ve come to ask a very great favor of you, 
Dora, if you feel equal to the task. I’ve been 
so poorly ever since that dose of rat poison that 
I took by mistake, I’m afraid I’m a-going into 
a decline. Dr. Burton recommends sea air ; he 
says he knows of nothing but a change of air 
that’ll do me any particular good, and I’ve 
about made up my mind to go to Newport for 
a couple of weeks. It’s a very expensive place, 
I know; but I’ve made considerable money 
since I came into this house, and a young lady 
ought to see something of the world outside of 
her native village — ’specially if she anticipates 
ever making a good match. We often hear 
that 

“Distance lends enchantment to the view,” 

and it may be that I shall be more properly 
appreciated in a new spear than I am in Pen- 
nyville — particularly if it isn’t discreetly given 
out that Miss Slimmens is a beauty , a blue , and 
an heiress. I’ve made up my mind to afford 
the money for the tower; but I don’t know 


132 Miss Slimmens ’ Boarding House. 


what to do about them everlasting girls. Ca- 
turah’s handy, and Susan’s got so she can go 
ahead as well as I can ; and if you’d just trou- 
ble to have an eye to the sugar, and the tea- 
caddy, and a few little things, I don’t know but 
what I might trust ’em. My family’s uncom- 
monly small now, and they won’t have much 
to do. 

Thank you ! Much obliged. But it’s just 
like you, Dora ; you’re always ready to do a 
good turn for anybody that asks it. I felt 
rather delicate about putting any care on you, 
at present, though I don’t ask of you to do a 
thing but to keep the keys. Yes, I do “need 
the change;” I realized it myself. I can hardly 
drag about the house this warm weather. And 
now that the matter’s settled, what shall I 
wear? that’s the great question. I expect my 
wardrobe 11 cost me more than all my other ex- 
penses put together. I must dress genteelly, 
or I shan’t stand any chance to make an im- 
pression. That white satin I got the time the 
professor boarded here will do for one ball- 
dress, and my pink silk for another. I’ve got 
a handsome watch and chain, you know, and 
considerable jewelry, and if you’d lend me the 
pearl set Mr. Little gave you on your birthday, 
I’d take good care of it, and consider it a favor. 
You won’t be going out much this warm weath- 
er to need it, and it just suits my style, don’t 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 133 


you think so ? Probably you’d never have had 
it if it hadn’t been for my good-will, making a 
match between you and George ; so you see I 
consider I’ve a sort of claim on it. He! he ! I 
think a new white muslin, flounced to the waist, 
with blue trimmings and your pearl set, will be 
sweet for another evening toilet. I’m going 
to take my new gray more-antique for a travel- 
ing-dress. I expect it will get ruined ; but, con- 
sidering that I’m going for the benefit of my 
health, and to see a little of genteel society, 
I guess I can afford it. There’s nothing like 
making an astonishing impression at first. I 
hope those darling hats, with lace around the 
brims, and ribbons flying, will be the fashion 
again this season at the watering-places ; they’re 
so bewitching, and they’ll be so becoming to 
my long curls. Ringlets flowing from beneath 
a broad-brimmed straw hat cannot fail to im- 
part a coquettish appearance. I think I shall 
wear one during my promenades, whether 
other ladies do or not. I have hardly decided 
whether to adopt a playful or pensile demean- 
or; but, considering my delicate health, and 
that I am unaccompanied by an escort, I shall 
likely decide in favor of the pensile. 

How soon? About a week, if I can get the 
dressmaker to hurry up my things. I shall ruf- 
fle the white muslin myself. I guess I’ve been 
out of the millinery business so long there 


1 34 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


won’t be any odor of brimstun follow me to 
Newport. I intend to pass myself off as a 
young lady of leisure, of only the most literal 
pursuits, who inherited my estates in Penny- 
ville by contract. I wish I knew some agree- 
able person who was going along at the same 
time ; I’m such a timid creature, and shall feel 
so unprotected in the cars. I shan’t sleep 
much of the nights till I’m ready, and the 
start is over. I feel so flusterated by the pros- 
pect and the hurry and all, my nerves are quite 
unstrung. Taking that exterminater was one 
of the worst things I ever done. I shall send 
to-night by express, to Boston, for a new set 
of curls and braid, and — shut the door, Dora, 
please — and I’ve nigh about concluded to order 
a wig, and done with it. I think that poison 
took the color out of my hair; it’s certainly 
getting gray. I might color it, of course, as 
I’ve been doing for several years ; but it’s so 
thin and harsh. A nice, thick, glossy wig of 
shiny false hair would be better, and not half 
the trouble. Only don’t tell anybody, for I 
wouldn’t have it get to Mehitable Green’s ears 
for a fortune. I pulled hers off once, you re- 
member, and I’ve no doubt she’s waiting for me 
to get to wearing one, to return the compliment. 

You’d like to know what I received in that 
box that came from Boston by express this 
morning? I’ve no objections to satisfying your 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 135 

curiosity, Mr. Little, nor that of any of the gen- 
tlemen whom I see before me, gathered round 
the convivial board. The box contained ruches 
to sew around the flounces of the white tarla- 
tan you saw me making, which accounts for its 
being so light. Hey? What’s that you re- 
marked? A “perverse and wig-ged genera- 
tion.” You ought to be ashamed of yourself, 
George, punning upon Scripture — hadn’t he, 
Mr. Bethuen ? You don’t intend to insinuate 
I’d tell an up and down wrong story about a 
trifle ? 

“ Trifles, light as hair, 

Are, to the jealous, confirmation strong 
As proofs of Holy Writ.” 

O George! clear out with you! You’re the 
greatest pest and bother that ever sat down to 
a boarding-house table. Dora, if you don’t put 
a stop to his nonsense, I’ll have to take him in 
hand myself. What’s that ? — 

“ With all my false , you love me still ”? 

He! he! Well, a body might as well stop a 
mill-race as to stop your propensity for quizzing, 
only I trust the rest of my family will not take 
your insinuations in earnest. How? There 
goes Mehitable Green, and you must overtake 
her, and inform her of the arrival of a box of 
Russias from Boston ? If that fellow hasn’t 
actually caught his hat and run ! Do you sup- 


136 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


pose he really intends to tell anything, Dora? 
Only wants to tease me ? He’ll be the death 
of me yet, with some of his practicing jokes. 

Have you any objection to my occupying 
this vacant seat, sir? The cars are so crowded 
I am impelled to sit by somebody, and I have 
selected you because I feel certain you are a 
clergyman — now, have I guessed aright ? Oh, 
I judge by your white cravat, and your general 
appearance, sir, but mostly by your counte- 
nance ; your countenance speaks for itself. I’m 
a great observer of physiology ; I flatter myself 
I can read a stranger at a glance. The study 
of the human face divine is my particular fort, 
and, brief as my experience with mankind has 
thus far necessarily been, I am seldom mistaken 
in my judgments. To Newport for my health, 
sir. And, as I am impelled to travel without 
an escort, I have taken the liberty of placing 
myself under your temporal protection for the 
period of our mutual journey. I shall not un- 
dertake to explain, even to myself, the feelings 
which prompted me to select you out of all these 
people. There are mesmeric mysteries on earth 
which I seek not to unfold ; I simply resign 
myself to their guidance. Your clerical air, 
doubtless, had somewhat of an influence ; but 
that was not all — I am certain that it was not all. 

Married? Not yet; time enough for that 
yet, sir. I’ve ever been opposed to early mar- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 1 3 7 

riages, which has induced me to refuse the of- 
fers I have thus far received ; though I feel that 
I am now arriving at an age when it will be safe 
for me to make a choice. Yet, while not a be- 
liever in early marriages, I have ever been a be- 
liever in love at first sight. What is your opin- 
ion upon the much-disputed topic, if I make so 
free as to inquire ? Have you never yet realized 
the sensation experienced by the poet, when he 

says, “ Oh ” mercy, how terrified I was ! I 

thought there had been a collusion, certainly, 
there was such a jolt. Excuse me for the un- 
premeditated manner in which I threw myself 
into your protecting arms. I knew not what I 
was about until I felt your breath fan my cheek, 
which revived me from my trance of terror. I’m 
excessively timid ; the wild fawn of the forest 
cannot be more so. I am afraid I have mussed 
your shirt-bosom, sir. I ought never to attempt 
to travel alone. 

What were we conversing about? You are 
right ; it was about love at first sight, and you 
had not yet given in your opinion. You are a 
firm believer in it ? I knew you was ; I could 
tell it without asking. Is it not curious that /, 
clinging as I am, have never yet beheld the 
being in the shape of man to whom I should 
be willing to yield up my affections ? — that is, 
never until recently — indeed, I may say quite 
recently — within an hour. My retired and 


138 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


thoughtful life has been mostly given to medi- 
tation, music, and poetry, and to the dispensa- 
tion of that fortune which was mine into the 
channels of benevolence. Like the sensitive 
plant, I have shrunk from the touch of man. 
What ! do you really get out at the next sta- 
tion ? Then we have only met to part. I feel 
as if this was hardly to be the terminus of 
our acquaintance, so pleasant upon my side 
at least. Ah, thanks! you flatter me. You 
are sure you are the greatest gainer by our 
meeting? Perhaps you will not object to an 
interchange of cards ; here is mine, with my ad- 
dress in full. Providence may again throw us 
together. If you should be in Newport during 
the next two weeks, I shall have the pleasure 
of renewing our delightful intercourse. Ah, the 
cars progress more slowly — they pause. And 
must you go? I am much obliged for the pro- 
tection you have afforded to a sensitive female. 
Farewell, till we meet again. 

Baggage? Yes, lots of it. S’pose a lady is 
going to Newport without any baggage? I’ve 
six trunks, and all of ’em packed tight. Want 
my checks, do you ? Sure you’re the check- 
man ? I’m not to be imposed on, if I am a 
female. I’ve been to Boston before. Oh, I’ve 
no doubt it’s all right. Here they are in my 
pocket. But great goodness ! where’s my purse ? 
I’ve lost it, for it isn’t in my pocket, and I felt 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 139 


it there only a little while ago — just before that 
gentleman left me at the last station. He must 
have stolen it ; nobody else could have done it, 
for it was on the inside, next to him. And he 
looked so genteel and benevolent ! What ? A 
regular swell ? Thought I might have known? 
I didn’t — oh, I didn’t ! I thought he was a 
clergyman. Fifty dollars gone, out and out. 
Ha ! the greatest gainer by our meeting, in- 
deed? I shouldn’t wonder. It’s a mercy I 
didn’t have all my money in my pocket ; I’d 
sense enough to put the most of it in my bosom, 
pinned and sewed to my stays. Fifty dollars, 
hard-earned cash, and all my susceptibilities 
thrown away besides ! Fifty dollars ! That’ll 
cut just so much of my stay in Newport, for I 
shan’t spend a cent more than I laid out to. 
It’s too bad ! I’ll renounce him — I’ll renounce 
him to every police-officer in Boston. I’ll leave 
a full description of his person at headquarters. 
I’ll offer a reward for his reprehension. Yes, 
I’ll give a hundred dollars for the pleasure of con- 
fronting him in a court of justice, and being the 
means of consigning him to the State’s prison. 
I’ll make it my business to go to the telegraph- 
office, and have him telegraphed for. It’s a 
burning and a crying shame when an unprotect- 
ed female cannot travel upon an American rail- 
road without running the risk of being robbed 
by genteel-looking men in white cravats. It’s 


1 40 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


bad enough being smashed up, pitched down a 
precipice, but to be robbed at every turn by the 

nicest-looking My watch is gone, too ! 

broke right off from the chain ! Oh, dear ! I 
believe I shall turn round and go home, I feel 
so sick and disheartened ! I would not have 
parted with that watch for a hundred dollars. 
Here we are in the depot. Policeman ! police- 
man ! here ! show me to the telegraph-office 
right away, and take my disposition. I’ve been 
robbed — shamefully robbed. Oh, dear ! if my 
journey begins in this way, I don’t know what 
it’ll end in. I only hope the detecting officers 
will secure that villain. 

Describe him ? Picture to yourself a wolf in 
sheep’s clothing, going about seeking whom he 

may devour — a I must be more identical, 

must I, in my description ? Well, then, a black 
coat, and a white cravat, and a large diamond 
on his left finger, and a pious-looking mole on 
the left of his nose, and a sanctimonious voice, 
and a meek look of the eyes, and black whiskers, 
and a ministerial air, about six feet tall, with 
small feet, and. a modest smile. Think you 
know him, do you ? Famous gambler and pick- 
pocket ? Oh, my ! and to think that I sat be- 
side him, that I confided in him, that I gave 
him my card ! Only to think, me, Miss Siim- 
mens, of Pennyville, giving my card to a gam- 
bler and a pickpocket ! Humph ! 


CHAPTER XVII. 


EPISTOLARY FROM NEWPORT. 

Dear Dora*. As I am confined to my 
apartment by a very unfortunate accident, so 
also by being too indisposed to go out, I have 
plenty of time in which to write you, as I 
promised. This is the eleventh day of my 
arrival in Newport, and about time for me to 
be starting for home, for two reasons, one of 
which is, my means are giving out, owing partly 
to being robbed, and the other is the accident 
to which I referred in the beginning. I sup- 
pose you are curious to know what kind of a 
time I have had? and though much of it has 
equaled my most sanguinary anticipations, 
there have been a few drawbacks to that un- 
alloyed happiness which is never ours on earth, 
and which I will confide to you, Dora, on 
account of your uncommon discretion for a 
woman, never talking about what’ll make other 
folk trouble — so different from that Green and 
those Pea-Podds, whom I detest, as well as 
many other Pennyville people. For a mean, 
gossiping, scandalizing place, I think Penny- 
ville will hold its own with the best. I never 


142 Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 


bought a little, innocent box of pearl-powder, 
or dropped a remark about a neighbor, that it 
wasn’t scattered to the four winds all over that 
village. 

. “ One sickly sheep infests the flock, 

And poisons all the rest.” 

Mehitable Green is that “ sickly sheep,” to 
speak in a meteor — a talking old maid, a pest 
to the whole community. But what on earth 
I’m writing about her for, when I’ve got other 
topics for my pen, is more than I know. 

Yes, Dora, I was robbed; before I had even 
reached Boston I was robbed of my beautiful 
watch that I bought the time I expected to 
marry “ A. de M.,” and fifty dollars, good bills, 
which were in my purse. If you’d see the man 
that done it, you’d have no more confidence in 
mortality. I was certain he was a minister of 
the gospel. He was one of the most respecta- 
ble-looking persons I ever met ; and, although 
being a stranger, I, of course, endeavored to 
keep him at a distance, yet, when he offered 
me his protection in the cars, I did not feel the 
least hesitancy in accepting it. We even ex- 
changed cards at his earnest solicitation. But 
he’ll suffer for it. I’ve the consolation to know 
that he’s safe in jail, and I’ve got my watch 
back, too; the money will have to go. He’ll 
have the comfort to find that some women can- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 143 

not be imposed upon with immunity — not only 
robbing and deceiving them, but taking their 
cards to keep in the pocket of a gambler and a 
pickpocket. I acted with my usual prompti- 
tude in immergencies. I didn’t rest till I got 
the police on the track, and telegraphed to 
New York and other places, and they knew 
him by the graphical description I gave of him, 
and he was arrested with my watch, and my 
name engraved on it, in his possession, so they 
sent me the watch by express ; and I shall be 
very careful, going home, to keep all my money 
in my bosom, and not to let anybody, not the 
bishop himself, or the President, sit on the 
same seat. It was one of the sweetest mo- 
ments of my existence when I heard of his 
arrest. If there’s anything I pride myself 
upon, it’s my discrimination, and I hate to be 
fooled. A person that can wind other people 
around their finger as easily as I can don’t 
relish getting tricks played on them, ’specially 
by sharpers and impostors upon the com- 
munity. 

I’ve made some capital out of that fifty dol- 
lars besides, total loss as it was, for it is cur- 
rently reported in Newport, and especially at 
the hotel where I am stopping, that I lost a 
thousand dollars in money and a set of 
diamonds worth fifteen hundred, besides a 
draft for a large amount, upon which I have 


1 44 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


ordered the payment stopped. It has served 
as a very good subject for a great many per- 
sons introducing themselves to me. I had the 
advantage of appearing upon the stage as a 
lioness immediately, besides the felicities it 
afforded me for circulating the rumor of my 
being an heiress. Jest how it got started that 
I had lost so much, I, of course, can’t say ; but 
I have not contradicted it. The old agate that 
“a rolling stone gathers no moss” ain’t true 
with regard to stories ; they roll up faster than 
a ball of snow, and I shouldn’t wonder if, be- 
fore I left this place, it was currently reported 
to be ten thousand dollars and enough jewelry 
to set up a jewelry store. You know I never 
was troubled with diffidence, and, being used 
to doing business for myself, I wasn’t a bit 
embarrassed to arrive here without an escort. 
I thought it fallacy to take just as good a room 
as I durst to, which I did. The very evening 
of my arrival at this house there was a hop, as 
they term it, and I made up my mind to at- 
tend, if I did have to enter the ball-room hang- 
ing, meteorically speaking, upon my own arm. 
I wore my new w-g — don’t let George see this 
letter — and the curls were beautiful. I used a 
quarter of a box of Mean-Fun, and spent just 
an hour on my eyebrows and cheeks, besides 
taking a tablespoonful of cologne-water to make 
my eyes bright. I took out all my dresses, 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 145 


and looked at them over and over. My choice 
hung between the white satin and the white 
flounced mull with the rushes. I finally de- 
cided upon the mull. I wore five starched 
petticoats over a full-sized panier skirt, and the 
flounces set out sweetly. My waist didn’t look 
bigger than a churn-dasher, and was encircled 
by a blue festus. Your pearl set capped the 
climax. I am certain I never appeared so well, 
which imparted an airy gayety to my spirits, 
and enabled me to enter the ball-room with a 
fairylike vivacity. I was conscious of becom- 
ing the “sinecure of neighboring eyes;” every- 
body looked at me and whispered, and looked 
at me again. I overheard some of their com- 
mentaries. “ She doesn’t appear at all de- 
pressed by her loss ; she must be very wealthy, 
to bear it with such composure,” said one. 
“ Those pearls are quite pretty ; I suppose she 
wears them because all her diamonds were 
stolen. Did you hear about it ?” said another. 
“Whom can I get to introduce me?” I heard 
a lovely young gentleman inquiring, in the 
most agitated manner. “ Oh, she’s so exclusive 
she knows nobody, and so independent she 
goes wherever she’s a mind to,” was the an- 
swer. “ I know we should have a game time, 
if we could only get introduced,” said he again. 
Jest then he met my eye, and I had a good 
notion to bow and smile, but concluded I’d 


146 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


better seem more reversed at first, even if I 
didn’t feel so. 

I was jest wishing, with all my heart, that I 
did know somebody that would ask me to 
polka, when I saw the ladies hopping and flying 
around like a parcel of robins learning to use 
their legs and wings, now on one foot, now on 
t’other, and then fluttering round and round so 
delightfully, supported by the elegantest men 
I ever beheld, with mustaches, and gaiters, and 
spy-glasses suspended around their necks — I 
was jest wishing and feeling as if I could not 
remain in my seat another instance, when — oh, 
Dora, whom should I behold at the other side 
of the ball-room but — guess who. You never 
could guess if you should strive for a week. I 
actually turned faint and thought I should go 
over, when I realized who it was. Everything 
got dark, and the music buzzed like a spinning- 
wheel ; but I got over it in a minute, and then 
— my, how mad I was ! My blood boiled in 
my veins ! I forgot the heavenly part, every- 
thing except that horrid letter ; you remember 
it, Dora — “dear old girl!” Yes, Dora, it was 
actually Adonis de Mountfort that I saw stand- 
ing and conversing with the very young gentle- 
man whom I had overheard wishing to be intro- 
duced to your humble servant. They had been 
looking at me, I know, though Adonis turned 
his eyes in another direction as quick as he 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 14 7 


could — but his name isn’t Adonis, or De 
Mountfort either, but Albert D. Morton — and 
pretty soon he looked back again, and stared 
right straight at me ; and I presume he saw 
how mad I was, and that I was going to have 
him arrested for embellishment, false pretenses, 
and breach of promise. I looked him straight 
in the eyes — oh, Dora do you remember what 
beautiful eyes he had ? — without flinching, and 
said to myself : “ ‘ Old enough to know bet- 

ter?’ Ha, young man, you’ll get your pay for 
that , now!” when what should he do but jest 
take that other gentleman by the arm, and 
come across the room, and hold out his hand 
to me with the sweetest smile, and say, as cool 
as a cucumber: 

“ My friend Miss Slimmens, is it possible this 
is you ? I am delighted to meet you here in 
this congenial scene. How are you? Not 
married, I suppose? Never been able to meet 
a suitable spirit yet, eh, in this ethereal world ? 
Allow me to take the liberty of presenting to 
you my particular friend, Mr. Bowser. He was 
dying to make your acquaintance, and was 
very much pleased when he learned from me 
that you and I were old friends , my dear Miss 
Slimmens.” 

I felt as if I should choke with surprise and 
rage ; and I couldn’t hardly be mad at him 
either, he looked so innocent and unconscious, 


148 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


so I jest bowed, and was wondering what on 
earth to do or say — whether to rise up there 
and cry out “Thief !” or to pass it by till to- 
morrow, which would give him a chance to 
escape — when he bent over and whispered in 
my ear: 

“ My dear friend, let bygones be bygones ! 
You don’t want it understood here that you 
are a retired milliner, nor just how you came 
to lose seven hundred dollars by me ; you’ve 
come here to make a match ; I’ll help you. I 
know everybody and everything, and all about 
them. The young gentleman I just introduced 
to you is a rich young Southerner; all the girls 
are dying for him. You will be the most 
envied of your sex. You say nothing, and I’ll 
say nothing, and it’ll be just the thing I can 
get you a large circle of admirers in less’n two 
days.” 

Before I could reply, Mr. Bowser was press- 
ing me to dance, and I was standing on the 
floor before I knew it. He danced splendidly. 
I enjoyed it excessively, in spite of my rheu- 
matiz, and after it was over, I was introduced 
to several others, and, before the evening was 
ended, I had the gratification of feeling, Dora, 
that Miss Slimmens, of Pennyville, was the 
belle of the ball, and observed of all observers. 
J. retired to my room without a single regret 
>r that robbery, and in such a state of flustra- 


Miss Slimmens' Boarding House. 149 

tion that sleep did not visit my pillow till broad 
daylight. 

The next day I made more acquaintances. 
Some of the ladies were very polite, and con- 
soled with me for my loss, which I told them, 
carelessly, was of no consequence, as my 
jewelry was not the gifts of friends, except the 
watch, which I should be glad to get back. I 
found myself getting along so well, and had al- 
ready the case of the pickpocket to attend to, 
I made up my mind it was fallacy to let Mr. 
Morton ( alias de Mountford) go, and not have 
him arrested for a swindler — at least, for the 
present ; and, on the whole, I’m rather glad I 
took the course I did. With so many chances 
thrown right in my face and eyes, as it were, I 
preferred keeping it a profound secret that I’d 
ever bleached bunnits for a living. 

You know I always had a remarkably genteel 
air, which has been in my favor ; and the way 
I’ve pulled and hauled Susan and Caturah 
around has been of advantage to me in order- 
ing the waiters, who are killingly attentive, in 
expectancy of what I’ll give ’em, which won’t 
be much, if they only knew it. I go to the 
table after almost everybody is there, and I 
never fail to create a sensation. I see it out of 
one eye, though I don’t purtend to. In the 
early part of the day I generally pass my time 
in the reception-rooms, and I always have a 


150 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


book, and generally a gold pencil and a piece 
of paper with me, and I adopt a pensile air, 
suitable to a literary person, as well as some- 
thing peculiar in my dress, as singularity is con- 
sidered a mark of talents. The gentlemen are 
very fond of conversing with me on intellectual 
topics. However, as you are not literary, Dora, 
I suppose you don’t care to hear. The politest 
person in the house to me has been Mr. Mor- 
ton ; he treats me with the greatest reverence 
before everybody, and says and does the nicest 
things. He’s taken me out to ride twice, and 
we’ve been down on the beach every day to see 
the feminine portion of the visitors bathing ; 
but I wouldn’t go in the water myself, for rea- 
sons — you know, Dora. 

Don’t think, from what I’ve said, that I 
have forgiven him. I haven’t, and I never 
shall. I am only acting from fallacy, and so is 
he, and we understand each other. The ac- 
quaintance I think most of is quite another 
person. He’s a widower ; I should say about 
thirty-five ; rather small, but dresses more 
sweetly than any other man in Newport. His 
dress is exceptionable, from top to toe, and he 
handles his spyglass like a person “ to the 
manger born.” The only imperfection in his 
appearance is a slight, a very slight limp, which 
I suppose is rheumatiz, and which prevents his 
dancing, which is a great pity. I’ve under- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 1 5 1 


stood he has no children, and is worth thirty 
thousand dollars. I suppose he reckons I’m 
worth full as much, and shan’t take any particu- 
lar pains to undeceive him. He hasn’t actu- 
ally declared himself yet, but I’m expecting 
every day when he will — at least, as soon as he 
learns that I’m about to leave, which I must 
do right away, Dora, for it costs even more 
than I reckoned, what with impudent chamber- 
maids that won’t hook up a lady’s dress with- 
out they get a half dollar a time for it, and a 
quarter for a glass of ice-water, and a dollar a 
day to the hair-dresser, who differs the arrange- 
ment of my w-g (burn this when you get 
through, if you ever do, which is doubtful), 
each time, and makes it just like a real head of 
hair. 

It takes money, and nothing but a good 
match can repay my outlay. However, I think 
the sea-air is doing me good, and I trust soon 
to get over the lingering remains of the exter- 
minator. If he don’t declare himself before I 
leave I shall invite him to visit Pennyville ; 
though I’d rather the matter would be settled 
before, as he would see then just what I was 
worth. What would you say, Dora, to my 
coming home a bride ? Poor Timothy Bethuen 
would scarcely stand the shock. Be prepared 
for the best ; and tell Susan to bake some 
pound cake. 


1 5 2 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


But speaking of the hair-dresser, and my 
w-g, and Mr. Morton, and bathing, brings me 
to the accident which I spoke of in the begin- 
ning, and to the most serial misfortune which 
has befell me since I left home. O Dora, it 
makes me sick to think of it! Just when I 
was getting along so swimmingly ! If I’d have 
stuck to my first resolutions it never would have 
occurred. I said you would understand that I 
had reasons for resisting all inducements to go 
a bathing in the turf. Of course you, being 
acquainted with the little secrets of the femi- 
nine toilet, know it would have very dilatory 
effect upon paint, false ringlets, etc., to get 
them wet. I didn’t think I should come out 
of the trial quite as glowingly as the young 
girls, with red cheeks and plenty of their own 
hair blowing about, that laughed and frolicked, 
as independent as fishes, all around. Mr. Mor- 
ton often solicited me to venture, and I always 
told him I was too much of a coward. Well, 
yesterday we was standing watching the rest, 
and he said to me, so persuadingly : 

“ Come, my dear Miss Slimmens, do try it. 
There’s nothing like it for renewing the blood 
and making people get fat — good, substantial 
flesh. Sea-bathing is famous for fattening 
folks ; it is the only charm in which you are 
lacking. Allow me to whisper that I under- 
stand something of feminine objections, and 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 153 


that I will insure you against accident. We 
will venture in but a little ways; I will support 
you ; the bloom of your cheeks and the beauty of 
your curls shall not suffer in the least. I will 
take care of them. Go, prepare yourself ; you 
will look charmingly in a Turkish bathing cos- 
tume.” 

I wanted to try it so much that I allowed 
myself to be persuaded. I entered one of 
those shanties, or camps, or whatever they call 
’em, and got ready. My mind misgave me as 
I set foot in the water ; but he assured me so 
firmly of his protection that I allowed myself 
to be led on. There was hundreds of people 
all about us, giggling, and shivering, and 
frolicking, and some of ’em ducking and let- 
ting the turf roll over them as if they were so 
many fishes. We only went out a little ways, 
for I wasn’t very firm on my feet, and I was 
afraid one of those big waves would come up 
too close to us ; but either Morton is very 
deceitful, or else the ocean is, for, just as I was 
standing there looking at the rest, and feeling 
the pressure of his arm about my waist, and 
only a little over knee-deep in water, along 
came a monstrous roller — and the next thing 
I knew I was gasping, and floundering, and 
smothering. I thought I was drownding. I 
never had such a fright but once previously, 
and that was when I took the arsenic. 


154 Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 


When I came to my senses a little, Mr. Mor- 
ton was wiping my face with his handkerchief, 
and, of course, taking off every speck of arti- 
ficial there was on it. 

“ I’m very sorry, Miss Slimmens,” said he, 
“ that you’ve got wet. I’d no idea that break- 
er was so extensive. It almost took me off my 
feet, and I’m an old bather.” 

But I didn’t realize a word he said. I felt a 
cold sensation about my head ; I put up my 
hand — O Dora ! imagine my emotion — my w-g 
was gone. 

At the instance I made the discovery, the 
turf came rolling back again, and there, upon 
its foaming crest, floated my beautiful, my be- 
loved, my expensive w-g. 

“ Save it !” I shrieked. 

Adonis made a lurch for it — but it was too 
late ; it was gone — forever ! 

Doubtless at this moment it is wildly tossing 
upon the cruel Atlantic, saturated with brine, 
its glossy ringlets torn into a million separate 
hairs, while I sit here writing to you, and de- 
ploring its loss. 

That isn’t the worst of it, either. I looked 
about — horror of horrors ! — every one was look- 
ing at us and laughing, even the children. I 
know that I must be a ridiculous figure. 

“ Take me out ; get me back into the camps, 
quick !” I exclaimed, and Adonis — it’s second 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 155 


nature to call him by that name — assisted me 
ashore, looking as grave as a judge. 

I dressed as quick as I could ; but when I 
came to tie that charming hat, so becoming to 
my long curls, upon my head, I felt that my 
glory was departed. Yet I was impelled to go 
to my hotel, and enter it in broad daylight in 
the face and eyes of a hundred staring men. 
If ever I realized the worth of a veil, it was 
then. I would have given all the money in 
my trunk for a yard of brown barege, but I had 
nothing of the kind along with me. 

The fright, and the embarrassment, and 
everything, has made me faily sick ; besides, I 
can’t stir from my room until my hair-dresser 
has completed another, which he is doing as 
fast as he can. Several ladies have knocked at 
my door to inquire after my health, but I have 
not admitted a soul. My only consolation un- 
der this afflicting dispensation is that my ad- 
mirer, Mr. Hopkins, the widower, was not 
among the spectators — at least, I do not think 
he was. He was not on the beach, and from 
the hurried glance I cast the windows and piaz- 
zas, as I entered our hotel, I concluded he was 
taking his noon nap. I trust I shall be myself 
again by to-morrow, and that something de- 
cisive will then take place. 

I must leave here by the day after, as my 
funds will be exhausted by that period. So 


156 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


you may expect me to follow my letter up 
pretty close. If it should be a Mrs. Hopkins, 
instead of a Miss Slimmens, you are called 
upon to welcome, do not be surprised ; curi- 
ouser things have happened. Pull Caturah’s 
hair if she don’t mind you. Tell Mr. Bethuen 
I’m convinced there’s a great deal of sin and 
wickedness at watering-places. And be sure 
that Susan bakes that cake and frosts it. Don’t 
let George see this letter. For a brief space 
yet, your affectionate friend, 

Alvira Slimmens. 

P.S. — Don’t tell Mr. Bethuen about my danc- 
ing the polka ; it’s scarcely consistent with my 
position as a professor, and I suppose I hadn’t 
ought to ; but the temptation was irresistible, 
and if the folks at home don’t get to talking 
and scandalizing about it, there’ll be no great 
harm done. I’m going to repent of it as soon 
as I get married, and settle down, and get 
things off my mind a little, so’s I can have an 
opportunity to compose my reflections. I in- 
tended to be sorry for it when I done it, as 
soon as I had a good chance. 

P.P.S. — I hope Caturah hasn’t got into them 
purserves on the top shelf of the pantry. Keep 
an eye on her, please. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


A COUPLE OF WALL-FLOWERS. 

A WALL-FLOWER? Oh, no ; I’m sitting here 
just to rest myself. IVe danced and prome- 
naded till Em tired out. I don’t think there’s 
a young lady in the room been asked oftener 
than I have this evening ; but my health’s rath- 
er delicate, and I don’t desire to over-exert my- 
self. ’Tain’t for want of solicitations to do 
otherwise that I’m resting myself, Mrs. Gran- 
ger. 

How does sea-bathing agree with my health? 
Oh, first-rate. Jest observe that Mrs. Sullivan 
waltzing with that furriner; she flies around 
like a flounced top. If I was her husband I’d 
put a stop to her conduct, or I’d shet her up in 
a convent. What conduct ? Oh, I don’t know. 
Watering-places are awful things to spread 
talk, and all I know is what I’ve heard, and of 
course I don’t purtend to believe all I hear. 
Anybody can see for themselves that she’s a 
dreadful flirt, but that isn’t proving that she’s 
a bad woman. It’s silly and vain of her to 
gallavant around the way she does, but that 
isn’t saying I believe what I’ve heard , common 


158 Miss Slimmens ’ Boarding House. 


talk as it appears to be. Oh, nothing ; I’m not 
a-going to repeat scandal. Her name’s mixed 
up with another person’s oftener than is safe 
for her ; but you must use your own eyes and 
ears if you want to satisfy yourself. They say 
it was just the same way last summer when she 
was here, only worse, if possible. Her husband 
bought a horsewhip one day, I’ve understood, 
and that a certain dashing old villain sought 
safety in flight the same afternoon ; but it’s 
probably dreadfully exaggerated — sech things 
commonly are. He’s so generous to her, too — 
allows her two thousand a year pin-money ; and 
she always in debt, they say, for all. Anybody 
can see how fond he is of her, and she ought to 
be ashamed, going on and breaking his heart. 
If she’d make herself as pretty to him as she 
does to other men, she’d be doing a little more 
as she ought to. But don't breathe a syllable 
of what I’ve told you, Mrs. Granger, for I’m 
not certain it’s true : and if it is true, it’s none 
of my business. 

Jest throw a look back over your shoulder 
at that couple standing by the window. Oh, 
nothing — nothing at all ; only, if we stay here 
many days longer, maybe we shan’t have to 
inquire. A body would think they wasn’t 
conscious there was a soul but themselves in 
the saloon, they’re so absorbed in each other. 
She needn’t break her fan, if he does whisper 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 159 


to her in that killing style. There ! she’s shiv- 
ered it all to atoms, and now she’s laughing and 
blushing about it. Probably he’ll present her 
with another equally expensive, and she’ll accept 
it, if she is a married woman, and hadn’t ought 
to. I never saw him before to-night. Do you 
know his name ? Her husband ? Oh-h-h, that 
makes a difference, of course ; but I should 
think they’d better keep their love-making for 
their own private entertainment. If there’s 
anything real sickish, it’s this billing and cooing 
between married people in public. 

Oh, dear! did you ever! That dress takes 
the rag off the bush ! If it was a little short- 
er at the bottom, and a little longer at the 
top, it would be improved. Sweet, did you 
say? Oh, it’s pretty enough, and too pretty. 
They say she’s ruining her husband by her ex- 
travagance. That’s the twentieth dress Tve 
seen her have on since I came. But anybody 
with a pair of shoulders like them must set ’em 
off at any price, if their husband is ruined, and 
their character, too. Black eyes and white 
necks are very nice, but they don’t make good 
wives, as some men know to their sorrow. 

What a sweet young man ! Do you know 
him? I feel sure he is a poet — he has such a 
pensile appearance, and such a high white 
forrid. I wish I was introduced to him. It’s 
pleasant to meet a congestive breast in a scene 


1 60 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


like this. Oh ! yes, I sometimes woo the Muses 
simply for my own pleasure. I’ve published a 
few pieces, but I don’t pretend to be an author- 
ess. The most of my suffusions slumber in the 
retiracy of my portfolio. If the world chooses 
to claim them after I’m dead, it can have them. 
I shall leave them copied out in a clear, eligible 
hand, simply for the benefit of my friends. 
I’ve been solicited to publish a volume of my 
fugitive productions, but have ever hesitated. 
Of course, “ filthy lucre” would be no induce- 
ment to a person of my means, and I’m indif- 
ferent to the bugle voice of fame. 

You don’t say so? Worth a million dollars? 
Of course he married her for her money, for 
she’s as humbly as a mud fence. Silks and 
satins can’t make her handsome. Isn’t she 
dreadful yellow She looks like a piece of 
white silk that’s been washed and ironed. Got 
a high temper, too, I’ll bet, by the turn of her 
nose and the look of her eyes. Her husband 
seems utterly subdued ; I’ll bet she snubs him. 
He looks as if she was continually telling him 
how much money she had brought him. It’s 
good enough for him, though ; shouldn’t have 
made such a fool of himself. If anybody 
should marry me, and I should have reason 
afterward to suspect it was my means they 
married, they wouldn’t lead a very easy life of 
it; I’d keep ’em as uncomtortable as a kernel 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 1 6 1 


of corn on a hot griddle. If I ever do make up 
my mind to except any of the male sex as a 
husband, I shall wed from love alone. 

See them young chits, dancing and talking 
and flirting like so many young ladies. They 
ought to be spanked and sent to bed ! I don’,t 
know what their mothers can be thinking of, to 
let 'em carry on so in a public house. Anxious 
to get ’em married off, I suppose ; mothers’ll 
go to any length, nowadays, to get rid of their 
daughters. If I’d went, and gone, and had 
children, I think I’d take care of ’em till they 
was of age, and not put ’em up in market, and 
show ’em off to the best advantage, like a mil- 
liner the bunnits in her show-window. Puts 
you in mind to ask if I was ever a milliner ? Do 
you intend to insult me ? Oh ! you’d heard; 
well, people shouldn’t believe all they hear, 
’specially at watering-places. I’ve heard you 
used to be a vest-maker before Mr. Granger 
married you, and that you made a vest for him 
was the way he come to fall in love with you. 
Of course you’ll deny it, but people that live 
in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. For 
my part I consider one honest person as good 
as another, whether they ever did anything for 
a living or not ; but low people that have got 
up in the world suddenly, generally put on airs. 
If I ever had been a milliner, I shouldn’t be 
ashamed of it. 


1 62 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


They say that pale girl over there in the blue 
brocade is dying of consumption, which means 
dying of love. She doesn’t look as if she’d have 
strength of mind enough to bear a disappoint- 
ment. For my part, I could bear a hundred 
disappointments, and not show it. I’d never 
let one of the masculine sex have it to boast 
that I was broken-hearted on his account. 
What? Do I speak from experience? Per- 
haps I do, and perhaps I don’t. Her lover 
died, did he? Oh, that’s a different matter. I 
admire constancy; it’s a very poetical quality. 
I mean to write some verses, and send them to 
the poor girl to comfort her. 

Do see that Widow Wilkins sail along in her 
second mourning! She’s perishing to take it 
off, for she thinks it doesn’t become her. I 
don’t know why, but I detest widows. They’re 
a vain and self-complacent set, the whole of ’em, 
and sure to get married again, even when they’ve 
more babies than they have dollars. I can’t 
account for it, and I hate ’em. 

Poor Mrs. Watkins ! how she suffers this 
warm weather ! All the fans in the house can’t 
keep her from being as red as a piny, she’s so 
fat. It’s a great misfortune to be so fat ; I’d 
rather be as lean as a lath than as cumbersome 
as she is. Fat folks always dress in such abom- 
inable taste ! There she is, sweltering in that 
black silk, for the sake of looking a little smaller 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 163 


than she really is. Short sleeves on those big 
arms ! they look like bags of flour. 

Well, well, Newport’s a curious place, and I 
think it’s a wicked place. There’s all kinds of 
naughty doings carried on here, they say — wine 
and billiards, and vanity and wickedness. Most* 
of people seem to come here jest to show them- 
selves, if they’re women ; and to drink, and play, 
and do as they hadn’t ought to, if they’re men. 
It’s enough to make a reflecting person sick at 
heart. And it’s such a place for talk, too. 
I’ve heard more scandal since I came here than 
I could repeat in a year. It’s dreadful ; I don’t 
know what the world is a-coming to. For the 
land sake, if that giddy Mrs. Sullivan ain’t 
a-dancing again ! Well, well, / shan’t say what 
I think of her, for I don’t believe in talking. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


ALL IS NOT GOLD THAT GLITTERS. 

WELL, Dora, you’ve kept the house as neat 
as a new pin ; there don’t appear to be any- 
thing sitting around or wasted. I’m really very 
much obliged to you. Yes, I’m glad to be to 
home again, though I had a fine time, and saw 
a good deal of the world in my absence. But 
it went hard to spend so much money ; how- 
ever, I trust it’ll pay. How am I looking? 
don’t you think I’ve improved in my style, as 
well as my countenance? I weigh five pounds 
more’n I did when I left here, warm as the 
weather has been. You needn’t be afraid to 
intimate me in anything you may see me do or 
say that’s new, for I’ve been associating with 
the best society, and I intend to be the model 
of the fashionable people of Pennyville. I en- 
joyed it hugely, passing myself off for a mil- 
lion-heiress. The young gentlemen followed 
my footsteps wherever I moved, and fluttered 
about me like bugs around a candle. I could 
have had my pick out of a hundred ; but, as I 
feared they were not entirely disinterested, of 
course I turned a deaf ear to all their entreaties, 


Miss Slzmmens Boarding House. 165 

which didn’t prevent my taking advantage of 
their devotion to bring me ice cream, and walk 
with me, and stand by me in the windows, and 
take me out to ride, and so forth. If it had 
not been for that unfortunate little accident 
about the wig, I should not have had an oc- 
currence to dampen my enjoyments. I’ve no 
doubt people, especially of my own sex, would 
have liked to have made more fun about it 
than they durst to openly ; but it won’t pay to 
laugh too much at the expense of a million- 
heiress — it isn’t fallacy — and so the world held 
its tongue remarkably, considering — all but the 
widows and old maids, and I snapped my fin- 
gers at them. 

How about that wedding-cake? — hem! I 
shan’t want it jest yet; but I shall before long. 
That’s the great secret of the whole, Dora. 
I'm engaged — engaged to Mr. Hopkins, point 
blank, and no mistake. The reason he did not 
accompany me home, and have the banns con- 
summated immediately, is, that his health ren- 
ders it necessary for him to remain by the sea- 
shore during the warm weather ; but he’s coming 
to pay me a visit about the 10th of September. 

Set a thief to catch a thief ! That man’s a 
regular fortune-hunter, and he thinks me plenty 
richer than I am ; but he’s got money of his 
own — nigh on to twenty thousand dollars — and 
I’ll get his money, if he don’t get mine. Turn 


1 66 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


about is fair play; he’s no business to be so 
mercendary himself, if he don’t want to be 
paid in his own coin. I saw through him as 
clear as a pane of glass ; but he’s respectable, 
and aristocratical, and rather good-looking, and 
a favorite among my own sex, and I didn’t feel 
bound to throw so good a chance away. I’m 
afraid it’s a little resky, letting him come to 
Pennyville first ; but he made the arrangement 
himself, and I didn’t know exactly how to get 
out of it. 

Good Lord, Dora, you ought to see the 
women at Newport! You’d get some new 
ideas in that innocent head of yours. Of all 
the humbuggery, and the big-buggery, and the 
dressing, and flirting, and fooling, and pretenses, 
and extravagance, and worse — they need a min- 
ister to preach to them worse than the heathens 
that worship crocodiles. Such things as I riv- 
eted out by making good use of my senses ! 
I tell you, I put this and that together, till I 
got the truth of many a pretty story ; and I 
didn’t feel bound to keep it to myself either ; 
for, if people do what they hadn’t ought to, 
they must expect to suffer the consequences. 

I guess some people were glad when I came 
away. Folks that are painted and powdered 
don’t like to be scanned through too sharp a 
pair of spectacles, ’specially of the magnifying 
kind. I didn’t care for the enemosity of the 


Miss Slimmens 1 Boarding House. 167 


females, so long as the men were as polite as 
they were ; I didn’t go to Newport to get in the 
good graces of women. Women hate each 
other ; it’s human nature. Of course, since I 
4 joined the church, I don’t say that I hate any 
of my fellow-creatures, except widows. They’re 
so designing and so seducing, I can’t abide ’em, 
and I won’t purtend to. ’Tain’t rivalry alone 
makes women despise each other so ; it’s be- 
cause they can see right through one another. 
The men get the wool pulled over their eyes, 
and they’re flattered and fooled so, they don’t 
see it ; but we see each other at it, and we un- 
derstand it, and we know how it’s done, and why 
they did it, and all about it. What’s sweetness, 
and innocence, and prettiness to the men, is 
artfulness, and complicity, and vanity to us. 
Law, Dora, we laugh in our sleeves at the men, 
and we like ’em at the same time ; but we don’t 
love each other when we laugh at one another. 
We’re dreadful backbiters, the whole of us — 
except a few like you. I ca^’t remember I 
ever heard you say anything ugly about any- 
body — not even about Philista Podd, when 
she was trying so hard to catch your George. 
There comes that quiet little smile of yours, 
which means, I s’pose, that you were too cer- 
tain of George’s heart to be troubled about 
Philista; but even if I was certain, if I’d been 
in your place, I couldn’t a-helped showing her 


<$) 


1 68 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


how triumphant you was ; but you was just as 
meek as a dove, and as kind and polite to her 
as if you didn’t know she’d give her head to 
be in your shoes. And she's got Mr. Barker, 
what with running here to catch Mr. Little ; so 
she didn’t quite throw away her time and 
trouble. Mr. Barker, beside of George, is like 
a duck beside a swan ; but he’s just the husband 
for Philista, and you’re just the wife for George. 
I can afford to say it, since I had sech a hand 
in making the match. And, since I’m in a fair 
way to make a very opprobrious union myself, 
I can afford to let other folks be as happy as 
they’re a mind to. 

Look ! jest look at old Mehitable going by. 
She looks worse’ll ever. I guess she sees my 
trunks piled up in the hall, the way she stretches 
her long neck, peeking in. Poor old thing ! 
she hain’t got money to take her to Newport. 
She’ll hatch up a new nest of stories about me 
now, see if she don’t, she’ll be so spiteful. It 
will be an awful spell of weather that’ll keep 
her to home next Sunday ; she’ll come to meet- 
ing to see what I’ve got on, and how I look. 
It’s a sin and a shame what some people go to 
church for. If it wasn’t they were afraid they 
should be set down for heathens, and they want 
to see who’s there, and if they’ve got a new 
bunnit, or turned and trimmed their old silk, 
or who’s going to join, or get married, or have 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 1 69 

their baby baptized, they’d never go near. 
They don’t go to hear the word, nor to repent 
of their wickedness. They set, and purtend to 
be listening to the minister, while their thoughts 
are running on their neighbors as busy as ants 
on an ant-hill. If there’s anything particularly 
sweet and good about a body, they’ll fix on 
that to gnaw and destroy all the sugar of the 
best disposition. They feast themselves on 
good qualities, so if any one’s a good deal re- 
marked about, it’s a certain sign there’s some- 
thing eatable about ’em. I’m going to wear 
the very best I’ve got next Sunday, because I 
know there’ll be some who’ll come to criticise 
and find out what I’ve got. That bunnit, you 
know, I bought just before I left home, and I 
haven’t worn it in Pennyville yet. 

But speaking about home reminds me I’ve 
got back to mine, with plenty to do. Them 
trunks are to be unpacked and set away, and 
the girls seen after, and — oh, dear me! since 
I’ve had such a resting-spell it comes hard to 
take hold again. I’ve been so used to being 
waited on, and having servants running after 
me, it don’t seem natural to be waiting on other 
folks. I can stand it a month or six weeks 
longer, and then we’ll see who’s ready to take 
her boarders off Alvira Slimmens’ hand. I’ve 
a notion to offer the business to Mehitable 
Green. My! wouldn’t the boarders groan in 


1 70 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


soul and body under her dispensations? I 
make no doubt she’s as penurious as she’s avar- 
icious. Them kind of pinched up old creatures 
always are. La ! I never get done talking if I 
don’t quit some time. I haven’t begun my 
story yet, but must go about my unpacking 
now. 

Here Susan! Caturah ! take hold and carry 
these things up-stairs. I’ll take them dresses 
myself — they’re my nice ones. These old cali- 
coes and things I jest stuffed in to fill more 
trunks ; it’s fashionable to have lots of baggage. 
Throw this salt-bag full of sand out in the 
street. I’ve paid extra on my trunks on ac- 
count of their weight ; for I was determined 
they should pass for all they were worth. Some 
folks guessed there was gold in ’em. 

La ! Mr. Bethuen, how do you find yourself ? 
I’ve got back, you see. You’re the first of my 
family, except Dora, I’ve had the pleasure of 
welcoming. Thank you ; my health’s very 
much improved. Nothing but the probability 
of improving it would have induced me to go 
to so pleasure-seeking and frivolous a place as 
Newport. I’ve learned a lesson in vanity and 
display, Mr. Bethuen. “ All is not gold that 
glitters” — no, no ! anybody that’s been to New- 
port can say, with Solomon, “ All is not gold 
that glitters.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


SHE RECEIVES A PRESENT. 

There goes the nose off that tea-pot, at 
last ! I jest knocked the cover of the sugar- 
bowl against it, and off it come. These china 
tea-sets ain’t good for nothing, ’specially in a 
boarding-house. There’s scarcely a piece in the 
whole set that isn’t cracked or nicked, or got 
the knob, or the nose, or the handle gone. I’d 
like to see my table better set, not so much on 
my own account as my boarders. You’re all 
of you gentlemen, and I’d like to treat you to 
a stylish table if I could afford it ; for instance, 
one of them plated tea-sets that look just as 
well as the solid silver, in Robinson’s window. 
They’re only thirty-five dollars. It wouldn’t 
be but a trifle if a number of persons were 
a-getting it, but for one person, and she a woman, 
with a living to get, it’s considerable. Some 
people have the good luck to have such things 
given to ’em. I’ve known of boarding-house 
keepers that had given satisfaction, and whose 
boarders had stayed by ’em for some time, get- 
ting handsome presents of silverware — which is 
a very appropriate gift, and always acceptable. 


172 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


Not that I wish any of mine, even those that 
have been members of my family since I com- 
menced, to think of taking up a subscription to 
make me a present of a tea-set, much as I need 
it ; and I should feel hurt and mortified if any- 
body suspected me of hinting at such a thing. 
If my young men, after my freedom in speak- 
ing, go and buy that set at Robinson’s, I shall 
feel positively offended. I shall refuse to ac- 
cept it, or, at any rate, if I do accept it, it will 
be because I feel it the unprompted token of 
their interest and good feeling for the woman 
who has endeavored to make her house their 
home. 

Excuse me, Mr. Smith ; I didn’t perceive 
your cup was out. It’s awkward pouring out 
of a tea-pot with a broken nose. It reminds 
me of those kind of people, mostly young 
ladies, who are forever hinting about presents 
from young men ; and the reason they have so 
much jewelry and pretty things is, because 
they haven’t the pride not to beg for them ; 
for, begging it is, call it what they may, this 
hinting and hinting about, admiring everything 
they see, and wishing they had it, and dragging 
young men to concerts and into ice cream 
saloons, and hitching on to their arms at fairs, 
and saying “ How cheap this is,” and “What a 
love that is,” and stopping before the windows 
of jewelry shops, and pointing out that sweet 


Miss Slimmens' Boarding House . 173 


bracelet, or that darling brooch, and all them 
tricks that I understand so well — that is, from 
observation. I despise such artifice! Now, 
there was Belinda Bell — I saw her last week 
looking at, and admiring, and going into fits 
over a pair of sleeve-buttons, gold set with tor-‘ 
toises, that Abram Smith was a-wearing ; and 
last night, to Tuttle’s party, she had them very 
sleeve-buttons on, and an arrow stuck in her 
hair that I’m certain I saw in Mr. Moss’ cravat 
not long ago. I make no doubt she’s got all 
her jewelry in that way, which is the reason 
she’s got more than other handsomer girls that 
ain’t quite so bold. I never lured a young gen- 
tleman into a jewelry-shop in my life. I’ve 
even made it a matter of conscience to return 
the gifts of them that I didn’t mean to encour- 
age ; I’ve sent back nobody knows how many 
dollars' worth of trinkets from admirers that I 
didn’t wish to deceive. Still, presents from 
boarders would of course be considered in a 
different light. 

Some more of the pickled salmon? No, 
there ain’t a bit more in the house; but there’s 
plenty of dried beef if anybody will have some. 
Caturah’s out bringing in the clothes ; but when 
she comes in, I’ll have her bring it out of the 
cellar and chip sdme off. Speaking of salmon, 
especially smoked salmon, reminds me of a 
dozen solid silver forks, with her name on, that 


1 74 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


I saw on Mrs. Lummis’ table the last time I 
was over. She had pickled salmon for tea, and 
one of the forks was on the platter ; they were 
a present from her boarders — lovely forks they 
were ! I declare I envied her. “ Mrs. Lum- 
mis,” said I. “you do have such luck! No- 
body’d think of giving me silver forks, not if I 
sewed on their buttons for years for 'em.” 
Howsomever, I’ve got forks enough. I don’t 
stand in any particular need of anything but a 
new tea-set ; and if my best friend should ask 
me, “ Miss Slimmens, what would be the first 
wish of your heart, if anybody should say they 
was going to give you something?” I should 
exclaim, “ That dear, sweet set of tea things in 
Robinson’s window !” But, dear ! what have I 
said? I’m afraid — dreadfully afraid some con- 
struction will be put upon my remarks. I beg 
you, gentlemen, to forget them. They all grew 
out of my breaking the nose off my best china 
tea-pot. 

Dora, there’s a box ! Come and help me get 
it open ; but I know what’s in it well enough. 
It’s that splendid plated set we were looking at 
the other day. No matter how I knew it. It 
was only last evening, at the table, when I 
broke my china tea-pot, some of the gentlemen 
spoke of making me a present ; and here it’s 
only ten o’clock of the next morning, and it’s 
come! There’s a note along with it; I’ll read 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 175 


it while Caturah’s gone to get the hammer. 
My boarders are a nice set of young gentle- 
men ; they can take a hint of the most delicate 
nature, without any necessity for a person’s 
speaking out. What a plain, handsome hand- 
writing ! Let’s see what it says : 

“ Dear Slimmens : Do not consider us of- 
fish-us in making you the slight present which 
you will find in the accompanying box. It is 
the first course we have taken to acknowledge 
your desserts. We cannot express our scents of 
obligation in any more forcible manner than by 
selecting this beautiful specimen of table service, 
which we hope to see in the future (as it has been 
in the past) the daily ornament of your board. 
With emotions grater than we can express, and 
the strongest remembrances of the past, for your 
ef-fish-ent labors in our behalf, we beg of you 
to accept the inclosed. We all feel that you are 
very near to us, and very dear. May you live 
a thousand years, and never be any older than 
you are at present. You have been weighed in 
the scales , and not found wanting. 

“ Tenderly yours, etc., 

“ Boarders.” 

Isn’t it queer? Just like my young gentle- 
men — can’t do the handsomest thing without 
their joke about it. Caturah, come along with 
that hammer, will you? Now, then, the lid’s 
off. How nice it’s all done up in cotton and 
tissue-paper! We’re coming to them now. 


176 Miss Slimmens Boarding House . 


This must be the spout of the tea-pot. But, 
my ! how funny it smells ! 

A codfish, and nothing else ! Was ever a 
poor, unprotected female so put upon as I am? 
It’s not enough that I must wear my feet off 
waiting on a parcel of sassy, provoking fellows^ 
but they must up and ridicule me to my face 
and insult me in this diabolical manner. It’s a 
burning disgrace to them. I’ve a notion to 
dismiss every single one of ’em this noon with- 
out a mouthful of dinner. But they'll only go 
off to the public-house, and have a grand time, 
and laugh at me. Besides, I can’t afford it. 
That Hopkins hasn’t come on from Newport 
yet, and until I’m married to somebody I’ve 
got to keep boarders for a living. But they’ll 
repent it, I can tell ’em that. They haven’t 
made me mad for nothing. Here, Caturah, 
take this fish, and have it boiled for dinner. 
Don’t you put another solitary thing upon the 
table except the dishes. Lay the table in good 
style, and put the fish in the middle of it. I’ll 
have something sent to your room for your din- 
ner, Dora, so you needn’t come down. We’ll 
see about this impertinence! 

It’s a beautiful day, gentlemen — beautiful. 
Quite gorgeous for October. This cool weath- 
er gives us a fine appetite. Mr. Smith, I’ll 
trouble you to carve. Won’t you be helped to 
more, Mr. Johnson? Not that I wish to be 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 177 


officious , but I know you are particularly fond 
of codfish. Don’t be backward, Mr. Bethuen, 
don't. No, thank you, not a bit ; I’d rather talk 
than eat ; I*ve t had my dinner. You don’t seem 
in very good spirits, the most of you. Have 
you heard of the death of any of your acquaint- 
ance? Mr. Smith, give Mr. Bunks some more 
of the cod. I was hoping you’d all feel as well 
as I do to-day. What! you aren’t done? You 
haven’t half finished your dinners. There be 
fish enough left to pick up for supper. Would 
you relish it picked up for supper, gentlemen ? 
You shall have it then by all means. I love to 
please my boarders — oh, yes, above all things ! 

Goodness gracious ! can I believe my eyes ? 
An entire new tea-set, just as handsome as the 
solid silver — the very one I had picked out in 
my mind’s eye — standing on my own table, 
before my own eyes, with sugar in the bowl, 
and cream in the jug, and tea in the pot, and 
all! What does this mean, gentlemen? An- 
other note in the sugar-bowl. Well, well, I de- 
clare I’m so agitated with pleasure and surprise 
that I can hardly peruse it. 

“ Beloved Slimmens : We acknowledge the 
corn — or, rather, the cod. At our seco?id dinner, 
at Crousi’s Hotel, to-day, we unanimously con- 
cluded, over the last cup of coffee, to take up 
a collection for the purpose of expressing our 
feelings for the lady who has so long and so 


178 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


ably ministered to our needs. Bury the re- 
mains of past repasts. Be good to us. Give 
us more sugar in our tea. Cast thy bread (and 
cake) upon the waters, and after many days it 
shall return to thee (on a silver plate). Please 
put a little ‘gunpowder 7 in the new tea-pot. 
Do not be afraid , it will not go off of itself/ 
Milk is warranted not to injure the inside of 
the milk-jug. And ever, when you think of 
eggs, remember muffins, and do not forget the 
weakness of your confiding 


“ Boarders.’* 


CHAPTER XXL 

DORA’S BABY. 

That ever I should have had such a thing 
happen in my house ! Me, a respectable single 
woman, with a house full of young men and 
gentlemen boarders, and such goings-on in it ! 
It’s shameful, perfectly shameful ! She ought 
to have known better than to have gone and 
got married. What did she go and get mar- 
ried for? Didn’t she know it would come to 
this ? Why didn’t she firmly refuse all solici- 
tations as I have? Thank goodness, it isn’t 
me ! But if it isn’t me, it’s Dora, and that’s 
about as bad. She’s been a good little thing, 
Dora has ; she’s put up with all my sayings and 
doings like an angel. I didn’t know I did think 
so much of her. Oh, dear! I wonder how 
she’s getting along ! I’ve a mind to go to the 
door and ask. But I won’t ; it’s good enough 
for her ! What did she get married for ? that’s 
the question. But they’ll all do it — yes, every 
one of them — just as quick as they are asked ! 
There hasn’t a girl in this town held out till she 
was thirty but myself. 

I’ve tangled this silk, and broke my needle, 


1 80 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


and spilled my thimble. Pshaw ! I can’t sew ; 
I’m too nervous. What’s that? Oh, it’s you, 
is it, Mr. Little? You needn’t come a-sneak- 
ing into my room for pity. I despise you. 
Oh, she’ll die, I know she will, and you’ll be 
responsible for her death. I’ve had a presenti- 
ment all the time she would die. There, you 
needn’t groan ; I didn’t mean to make you any 
more miserable than you are, poor fellow ! But 
I had an awful dream last week ; I dreamed 
about white roses, and they're a sure sign of 
death in the family, especially at this season of 
the year. Flowers out of season purtend death, 
and white roses, of all others ! Still, I don’t 
wish to scare you. Maybe she’ll get along. I 
wonder what the boarders will say when they 
hear the news. I sot to the dinner-table as 
cool as a cucumber, and didn’t let a soul know 
what was going on in the house. It’ll be time 
enough when they hear it squall ; yes, George, 
squall ! Don’t think you’re going to have a 
cherub with wings, that’ll laugh and clap its 
hands the first day. Little babies are the ugli- 
est things in creation. Red-faced, red-armed, 
red-necked, screaming, kicking, colicky, squirm- 
ing — bah ! And everybody will tell you it’s 
the very picture of its father. If you ever had 
any vanity, as all men have oceans of it, you’ll 
get it took down a little on this occasion. The 
picture of its father ! Oh, yes ; the very pic- 


M iss Sltmmens * Boarding House. 1 8 1 


ture ! Flat-nosed, blank-eyed, crimson, squall- 
ing little bundle, the very picture of its hand- 
some papa! ha! ha! Oh, you’re in a nice 
scrape, ain’t you ? and it’s good enough for 

Mercy, Susan, how you frighten a person ! 
I thought you’d come to say the nurse had 
sent word Dora was dead, or dying, or some- 
thing, and here it’s only to bother me about 
tea. Do get tea for once in your life yourself, 
without asking any questions. Don’t you see 
I’m in a state of mind bordering on detraction, 
with boarding married people? Shut the door. 

Do sit down, George, and don’t make such a 
fool of yourself, walking around like a hyena 
in a cage ! There ! what on earth was that ? 
Nothing but that pesky cat, got in the house 
again. I thought it was a baby crying. I hope 
this circumstance will be sufficient to warn me 
against ever getting my foot caught in the 
trap. What the female sex ever marry for is a 
mystery. I don’t aspire to be considered a 
strong-minded woman, but I trust I shall ever 
have strength of mind sufficient to enable me 
to resist the inducements of a husband and 
children. You’ll repent this day, young gentle- 
man, the worst of any in your life. Instid of 
your quiet evenings, sitting reading to Dora, 
or playing backgammon, or singing, it’ll be 
catnip tea and colic. All the peace you’ll get 
for the next six months you may put in my 


1 82 Miss Slimmens Boarding House, 


thimble here, and it won’t run over. It’s good 
enough for you ! My best wish is that you 
won’t have two hours’ consecutory sleep in a 
year. 

Do clear out and go in the parlor, if you 
can’t keep still a minute. I never saw a man 
act so much like a fool. But I don’t wonder 
you look like a robber or a felony. I suppose 
if Dora dies you’ll console yourself with — Bless 
me! that was a genuine baby’s squall! Just 
hear the little panther. Ha! ha! what makes 
you sored in the face, George? you’ve changed 
color all of a sudden. Dont you wish you 
knew whether it was a boy or a girl? Run up- 
stairs and ascertain, you goose ! 

He ! he! he went up like a rocket. Well, if 
I ever thought George Little would be flus- 
tered by anything! These men are too ridicu- 
lous for anything. I must go and see whether 
Dora’s dead or alive, and whether it’s a girl or 
a boy. 

He! he! gentlemen, you needn’t expect Mr. 
Little’s company at the tea-table. I don’t sup- 
pose he could swallow a mouthful before to- 
morrow morning. He don’t feel the necessity 
of vittals, oh, no ! he’s living on his vanity at 
present. A boy, of course ! a fine, plump, 
healthy boy. But he ! he ! gentlemen, really I 
beg your pardon for mentioning what has 
occurred. But as Dora has been like a twin 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 183 


sister to me, I couldn’t turn her out of the 
house in consequence of her getting married. 
I don’t approve of marriages, the reason I 
make it a rule to take only single gentlemen to 
board. I’m single myself, and ever intend to 
remain singular. Nothing in the world could 
tempt me to do as Dora’s done — get married, 
and have, but, bless me ! what am I talking 
about ? I blush to think it. Gentlemen, ex- 
cuse my overwhelming confusion. 

Seventeen apprentices have I had in all, 
since I commenced the millinery business for 
myself, seventeen, and every one of them wives 
and mothers, even to Dora, the last and young- 
est of the lot ! I declare I do feel lonesome, 
setting here by myself, reflecting on my fate 
and that little pink innocent asleep in its crib — it 
makes me feel dreadful lonesome. I could cry 
this minute. It’s no fault of mine, neither; if 
ever a woman tried faithfully to find a pardner, 
it’s been Alvira Slimmens. I haven’t left a 
thing undone that could be done to bring 
about a different state. I’ve toiled faithfully 
from one year’s end to another, I’ve made 
money, and I’ve spared no expense to ren- 
der myself attracting ; yet here I am, setting 
solitary in my boarding-house, my boarders 
wrapped in the arms of Orpheus, and Dora’s 
baby asleep in its crib, with rose-colored cur- 
tains around it. I don’t wonder George is 


184 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


proud of a boy like that. Somehow, when I 
went into the room and saw Dora lying there, 
looking so sweet, and pale, and pretty, and her 
husband so triumphant, and took that little 
bundle of flannel and lace in my arms, instead 
of being disgusted, as I expected, a great lump 
came up in my throat, and I felt like bursting 
right out a crying. Heigh-ho ! 

IVe jest about made up my mind, setting here 
and thinking it over, that, sence Mr. Hopkins 
didn’t keep his promise to pay a visit to Penny- 
ville, but keeps putting it off and putting it off, 
in the undefinable manner he does, the next 
time I can catch Timothy Bethuen all alone by 
himself I’ll just pop the question to him, out 
and out ; it’s leap-year, and I’ve a perfect right 
to. I’ll offer to support him, and make him a 
good living — but I’m awful afraid he’s engaged 
to that Philistina Podd. It won’t be leap-year 
again for four years, and I shall take advantage 
of it while it lasts. I haven’t had anything 
make me feel so lonesome and old in all my 
life as Dora’s baby. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THE BRIDAL DAY. 

At last ! at last ! Alvira Slimmens is a mar- 
ried woman ! no mistake this time. At three 
o’clock this afternoon the ceremony was per- 
formed, in the presence of creditable witnesses, 
by the minister of my own church ; and noth- 
ing has yet occurred to render it null and void. 
No professor’s wife coming in this time to 
claim my lawful husband. I’ve took pains to 
procure the most dubious evidence that Mr. 
Hopkins is all that he assumes — a widower 
who has already buried two wives, a man of 
some property, and of a few children, who 
shan’t bother me much, I can tell him. Fifty- 
six years of patient plotting and planning has 
at last brought me to my bridal. I will con- 
fess to myself, now, before Mr. Hopkins comes 
in, that this moment is not all that I have 
pictured it in years gone by ; he is ruther old, 
though younger than I, and he’s got young 
ones, and I know he married me for my prop- 
erty, and that I shall have to continue to keep 
boarders and support him instead of him me. 


1 86 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 


But I’m married, and Mehitable Green isn’t, 
and that’s triumph enough for one lifetime. 

Nobody can say, neither, that Mr. Hopkins 
isn’t a gentleman ; there isn’t a person in Pen- 
nyville who can compare with him in polite- 
ness. He’s been to every fashionable resort in 
the United States, he dresses in the genteelest, 
most laboratory style, wears a gold eye-glass, 
takes snuff, and is far from a bad-looking man. 
It’s true, he limps just the least bit in the 
world — rheumatiz, I suppose — but nobody 
would notice it ; and his cheeks are as red, and 
his hair as black and shiny as though he wasn’t 
but twenty-five, instead of forty, which he owns 
up to. Altogether he’s a match not to be 
ashamed of; and I guess, when we go into 
church together next Sunday, there’ll be some 
eyes that won’t be fixed on the minister. It’ll 
be the proudest moment of my existence. I 
make no doubt Mehitable Green would love to 
stay to home to show she didn’t care, but she 
can't ; curiosity will get the better of discretion. 

THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING. 

For goodness, gracious sake, Mr. Hopkins, 
can you tell me who that carriage-load of young 
ones is, stopping at our door? Your family, 
Mr. Hopkins ! One, two, three, four, five, six, 
seven, eight, nine of ’em — quite a pretty pres- 
ent to bring your confiding bride the morn- 


Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 1 87 


ing after her marriage. I suppose I may trot 
round now the rest of my life, taking care of 
them interesting specimens, and keeping board- 
ers to support you and your wooden leg. Oh, 
Mr. Hopkins, but you’re a match for me! 
How handsome and attracting we both looked 
when we got off our wigs and our false teeth, 
and you took out your glass eye, and asked me 
to help you off with your wooden leg. It was 
quite poetical, wasn’t it ? But let me tell you 
you haven’t got so much the best of the bar- 
gain as you think ; them great girls that I see 
trooping up the steps will have to give a little 
aid and assistance about keeping boarders for 
their father’s benefit. I shall dismiss both my 
girls this very day. And mind, if you don’t 
walk chalk with that wooden leg of yours, you’ll 
find it in the fire some morning. It’ll make 
excellent kindling wood. That leg gives me 
the advantage, you perceive, my dear ; it won’t 
do for you to quarrel with me. Take them 
young ones up-stairs to the back attic room 
to take their things off, and then come down 
and go to market, if your rheumatiz don’t pre- 
vent you, my love ! 

My! but doesn’t he go off as meek as a 
lamb ! I’ve got him under my thumb already. 
“ It’s an ill-wind that blows nobody any good.” 
He fooled me awfully about that limb of his, 
but he’ll repent it; I’ll rule him with his own 


1 88 Miss Slimmens Boarding House. 

wooden leg, worse than a rod of iron. Well, 
well, well, this is a curious world ; and this is 
what I’ve toiled and struggled for during thir- 
ty-five long years. Heigh-ho ! Well, half a 
husband’s better than none, ’specially if he can 
be got under good government. Only so’s that 
old Mehitable never finds it out, that’s all I'll 
ask. Nine children at a batch ! Well, every- 
body must have their number, and I’ve got 
mine at last. Heigh-ho ! 

THE END. 


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93. JANE EYRE. By Charlotte Bronte 20c 

94. FIGHTING HER WAY. By Rose Ashleigh 20c 

95. A CUNNING WOMAN. By author of “Ladybird’s Penitence” 10c 

96. INTO THE SHADE, and other stories. By Mary Cecil Hay 10c 

97. TWICE STOLEN. By the author of “Tempted by Gold.” 10c 

98. THE FUGITIVES. By Mrs. Oliphant : 10c 

99. HER FACE TO THE FOE. By Mary N. Holmes 10c 

100. FOR LOVE OR GOLD? By Miss Jennie S. Alcott 20c 

101 . THAT AMAZING PROFESSOR 10c 

102. A HAPPY RELEASE. By the author of “Constance Dare.” 10c 

103. HER DARING VENTURE. By the author of “ Mildred’s 

Mistake.” lot 

104. THE FIGURE IN THE CORNER. By Miss M. E, Braddon. 10c 

lot. DARKEST BEFORE DAWN 10c 

106. LADY AUDLEY’S SECRET. By Miss M. E. Braddon 20c 

107. “CASH SEVENTEEN.” By Sophy S. Burr 10c 

ar. JS« OGtIIjVIE eft; CO,, Publishers. 

P. O. Box 2767 . 25 Rose street. New York. 


THE PEOPLES LIBRARY. 


Number* ^ 

100— FOR LOVE OR GOLD ? By Miss Jennie S. Alcott 20c 

101— THAT AMAZING PROFESSOR 10c 

102— A HAPPY RELEASE. By the author of “ Constance Dare” 10c 

103— HER DARING VENTURE. By author of Mildred’s Mistake”.. 10c 

104— THE FIGURE IN THE CORNER. By Miss M. E. Braddon 10c 

105— DARKEST BEFORE DAWN 10c 

106— LADY AUDREY'S SECRET. By Miss M. E. Braddon 20c 

107— “CASH SEVENTEEN.” By Sophy S. Burr 10c 

jpg — WIFE OR WIDOW ? Bv the author of “ The Missing Diamonds. ”10c 

109— GILT AND GOLD. By the author of “A Wife’s Honor.” 10c 

110— A WIFE’S ORDEAL. By Emma S. Soutkworth 10c 

11 1 — SOU G HT AND SAVED. By M. A. Pauli 20c 

* 112— THE MISSING DIAMONDS. By the author of ‘ Wife or Widow F’lOc 

113— BY FAITH ALONE. By Nellie F. Haynes 10c 

114— THE MYSTERY OF CEDAR COURT 10c 

115— MAB TARLETON’S TRIAL 10c 

116— HER FIRST LOVE. By the author of “Miss Litton’s Lovers”.. 10c 

117— MRS. CAUDLE’S CURTAIN LECTURES. By Douglas Jerrold. . ,10c 

118— HEIRESS TO A MILLION 10c 

119— COBWEBS AND CABLES. (Part Second). By Hesba Stretton. .. .15c 

120— LIONEL FRANKLIN'S VICTORY. By E. Van Sommer 20c 

121— WAS HE SEVERE? By Mrs. Henry Wood 10c 

122— BRENDA YORKE. By Mary Cecil Hav lOo 

123— THE SAD FORTUNES OF THE REV. AMOS BARTON. 

By George Eliot lOo 

124— THE HAUNTED MAN. By Charles Dickens 10c 

125— OWEN’S HOBBY. By Elmer Burleigh 20e 

126— LADY MARABOUT’S TROUBLES. By “Ouida” 10c 

127— A CHRISTMAS CAROL. By Charles Dickens 10c 

128— THAT BEAUTIFUL LADY. Bv the author of “Dora Thorne”. . . .10o 

129— CHRISTOWELL. ByR. D Blackmore 20o 

130— THE THREE COUSINS. By Mrs. May Agnes Fleming 10c 

131— THE LOST BANK-NOTE. By Mrs. Henry Wood 10c 

132— MACON MOORE. By Judson R. Taylor 20o 

133— DICK NETHEKBY. By L. B. Walford 10c 

134— A GOLDEN DAWN. By the author of “Dora Thorne” 10c 

135— THE FARMER’S DAUGHTERS 10c 

136— MY DARLING’S RANSOM. By Richard Dowling 10c 

137 — WEDDED AND PARTED. By the author of “Doi'a Thorne”.. 10c 

138— HIS SECRET. By Miss M. E. Braddon 10c 

139— A FROZEN SEA. By Wilkie Collins 10c 

140— MARJORIE’S TRIAL. By the author of “A Cunning Woman” 10c 

141— RETURNED TO LIFE. By Gerald Burre 10c 

142 — A TERRIBLE MISTAKE. By the author of “Dora Thorne” 10c 

143— THE CLOVEN FOOT. By Miss M. E. Braddon 20c 

144 — NUMA ROUMESTAN. By Alphonse Daudet.. 10c 

145— YOUR MONEY OR YOUR LIFE. By Wilkie Collins .'..... 10c 

146— THE CAPTAINS’ ROOM. By Walter Besant and James Rice. . . .10c 

147— TOM YORKE’S LEGACY. By Edward Garrett 10c 

/ 148— A DOUBLE BOND. By Linda Villa ri. . 10c 

t 149— HIS GREAT REVENGE *!.’.‘.’.’lOc 

150— DIED YOUNG. By Elmer E. Russell 10c 

151— HIS PH ANTOM BRTDE ! !lOc 

152 — TWO KISSES. By the author of “ Dora Thorne”. 10c 

153— “A BAND OF THREE.” By L. T. Meade.. . 10c 

154— THE WHITE NUN. By author of “ The Bondage of Brandon ”' ' 1 Oc 

155— LOVE’S SACRIFICE. By W. G. Walenn .10c 

Full sets of The People’s Library always on hand, and for 
sale by 

«T ■ S. OGrXXiVIXS efe Co., Publishers, 


P. O. Box 2767 , 


25 Rose street, New York. 


THE PEO FEE'S LIBRARY. 


r 


Number. V &jce. 

165— MISJUDGED; or, The Troubles of a City Man lOo 

166 — ‘‘A LUCKY GIRL.” By the author of “A Cunning Woman” lOo 

167— MR SHUM’S PROPERTY. By Geo. Manville Fenn lOe 

168— NINETY NINE CHOICE READINGS AND RECITATIONS, No. 3. 

Compiled by J. S. O^ilvie . ...v lOo 

169— THE COLLEGE BOYS. By Mrs. Henry Wood 20c 

170— OSCAR WILDE’S POFMS AND LECTURE 10c 

171 -PEG V OFFINGTON. By Charles Reade 10c 

172 — THE SQUIRE’S DARLING. By t lie author of “ Dora Thorne ,10c 

173 — THE MAN WITH RED HAIR. By W. E. Norris 10c 

174— HER SOLEMN PROMISE 10c 

175— THE PHANTOM WIFE. By Molly Myrtle 10c 

176— “IIIS BONNIE BRIDE.” By E. Dundas 10c 

177— WON BY A RUSE. By L. Lansfeldt 10c 

178— MY LIFE’S RANSOM. By Miss Mulock 10c 

179 -AN UNEQUAL STAKE. By the author of “A Cunning Woman.”10c 
ISO- -THE WITHERED LEAF. By“Ouida.” 10c 

181— -A SISTER’S JACRIFICE. By Mary Cecil Hay 10c 

182— WEAVERS AND WEFT. By Miss M. E. Braddon 15o 

183— ‘‘NO CARDS, NO CAKE.” Bv Julia McNair Wright 20c 

184— THE BALD EAGLE. By Elizabeth Oakes Smith lOo 

185— AN UNNATUL AL BONDAGE. By the author of “ Dora Thorne”10c 

186 -A BIG FISH. 10c 

1S7 -WAS IT A CRIME ? 10o 

188 -MAD TO GET MARRIED 10c 

189- A DOUBLE SURPRISE 10c 

190- ONLY A DOG; or, Federal or Confederate? By Mildred 

Brown 20c 

191- -SAVED BY LOVE. By Emma S. Soutliworth 10c 

192- -THE COUNTESS’ SECRET 10c 

193- -DAPHNE’S CHAMPIONSHIP. By the author of ‘‘A Cunning 

Woman ” 10c 

194- -THE DOCTOR’S PATIENT. By the author of ‘‘Wife or Widow ?”10o 

195- -BAREFOOT BILLY'S FORTUNE. By Gaffer Gray 10c 

196- ARNOLD’S PROMTSE. By the author of ‘* Dora Thorne” lOo 

197 RIP VAN WINKLE, and other sketches. By Washington Irving. lOo 

198 - HILDA. By the author of “ Dora Thorne” 20o 

199- -THE LOVE BLOSSOM. By Jennie S. Alcott lOo 

200- -MARRIED AND DESERTED 10c 


The People’s Library is the most j'opular, and contains nothing but 
first class stories by "popular American and English authors. It is 
never out of print, all back numbers being constantly on hand. It is 
for sale bi all news-dealers at advertised price, or any number will be 
mailed by T. S. Ogilvie & Co., the publishers, 25 Rose Street, New York, 
on receipt of 12 cents for a ten-cent number, 18 cents for a fifteen-cent 
number, and 25 cents for a twenty-cent number. 

j For sale by the Dealer from whom you received 

this circular. ' 


Something to Read! 

$10.00 WORTH FOR $1.50! 


We desire to call the attention of lovers of pure fiction to 
the fact that we now offer, in bound book form , the following 
seven complete stories, written by 

Miss M. E. Braddou, 

one of the most popular and pleasing authors in the world, 
and which are usually sold, in book form, for from $1.25 to 
$1.50 EACH. 

We offer the Seven Stokies, bound in handsome English 
cloth, with elegant ornamental gold side and back stamp, 
sent by mail, post-paid, to any address, for only $1.50! Bound 
in heavy paper covers, $1.00. 

List of Starts we sell for $1.50: 

Lady Aadley’s Secret 
Tlie Octoroon, 

The Cloven Foot, 

His Secret, 

A Wavering Image, 

The Wages of Sin, 
Aurora Floyd. 

These stories are printed on fine heavy paper, from large, 
new type, and we guarantee satisfaction in every respect to all 

ni’cli 3»s0r*s 

Ask your bookseller for “SOMETHING TO BEAD,” writ- 
ten by Miss M. E. Braddon, and published by us; or send 
$1.50 to us and we will send them by mail, post-paid. 

The stories are not sold separately in this form. We 
want Agents to sell them in every town and village in the 
whole land, to whom we offer liberal terms. 

Address all orders and applications for Agency to 

l S. QglLVIE & 00.. Publishers, 

P. O. Box 2767. 25 Rose Street, New York* 











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